


Can't Stand the Heat

by LuminescentLily



Series: Love is Oblivious [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Eventual Smut, Guns, Hand Jobs, Hunters, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Pining, Rimming, Slow Build, Top Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Wolfsbane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminescentLily/pseuds/LuminescentLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still hopelessly in love and too dense to realize they both feel the same, Stiles and Derek have to try and deal with their feelings as hunters decend on Beacon Hills and Derek goes into heat at a most inopportune time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 Derek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlecMcDowell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlecMcDowell/gifts).



> This part of the story is dedicated to AlecMcDowell, whose insightful critique made me really start thinking about Derek and Stiles' relationship which in turn gave me a ton of new ideas. Now instead of just a one-shot Stiles in heat story, like I had originally planned, this is now a series that just continues to grow. I have at least two more parts planned for this series after this story.
> 
> Having said that, comments and critiques are always welcome. Even if they are negatives. Nothing helps a writer more than constructive criticism.

Derek heard the groan of metal bending before he realized it was coming from the wrench in his hands that he was unconsciously twisting out of shape.

Growling in frustration, he attempted to bend it back but it was no use. This was the seventh tool in the last month—the fourth in the last week—he’d broken because he wasn’t paying attention to his own strength. He was at least grateful the garage was empty so he didn’t have to explain to his co-workers how a normal man could bend metal like Superman. The last time that happened he only just managed to convince the other guys that the muffler he crushed had gotten stuck between two other pieces of machinery. They hadn’t completely believed it but from the whispered conversation he overheard later they just though he might be on steroids. That was as good of an excuse as anything else. It also helped explain his anger issues as of late. He didn’t care if they thought he was on steroids. As long as there was never even a hint of something supernatural, he didn’t care what they thought of him.

Only a few of them actually thought he was on steroids. The rest of them just thought he needed to get laid. Not that they would ever say that to his face. They all wanted to keep their jobs after all.

Derek owned the repair shop. Mike’s Motors: Repair Shop. There was no Mike. It was something Peter came up with. He said it was catchier for people to remember and would help him in not having to deal with idiot customers who asked for the manager for stupid questions that any one of the other mechanics could answer. He didn’t know if the catchier name actually got him more customers but it sure helped with idiot customer. They got about ten calls a day all asking for Mike, most of which were only about the price of an oil change. Whenever they got one of those calls they just passed it off to any of the available mechanics and Derek could work on the cars in peace.

He didn’t really need a job. After the fire the insurance from the house and his parent’s life insurance money was enough for Peter, Laura, and him to live comfortably for the rest of their lives, especially after Peter—a formal Wall Street Banker—had invested half of it conservatively. But Peter had insisted that he and Laura go to college and that they then both got jobs. It would give them something to do all day and help them stay in touch with the local community. The latter was particularly important as they didn’t want people to start wondering what they did out in the woods all by themselves. You could forgive your neighbor’s quirky behavior but the wealthy recluses alone in their house out in the woods was just fodder for all sorts of gossip and speculation. He couldn’t fault Peter’s logic in that.

They hadn’t finished high school but had tested out instead and gone to college early. Laura went to school for journalism and currently worked for the town’s local newspaper, the Beacon. Beacon Hills wasn’t a big enough town to have their own local TV news station so most people still got their local news from the paper. Laura mostly maintained the paper’s website for the younger generation that might be interested in what was going on in town and wrote the occasional article. She liked her job and it always helped to have someone in the press to control a story if anything supernatural happened in town. Peter even kept a scrapbook of all of her articles that were published.

Peter spent most of his time in the herb garden or in his laboratory on the ground floor of their house, working on his wolfsbane antidote. That was another good reason to be out of the house most days as some of his concoctions could stink up the whole house. Or he would want to use Derek as a test subject. And Peter made regular visits into town to buy gardening supplies and speak with the owners of the local plant nursery. He was known around town as a bit of an amateur horticulturist. Peter also did a little daytrading on the side, to keep his investment skills sharp.

Derek had gotten a general business management degree and then had no idea what to do with it. He’d always liked cars and was good at fixing them up so he got a job at the local mechanic’s shop. He quickly started to butt heads with the moron who owned the place and quit, not even two months after being hired. Then he opened his own garage. Business had been slow in the beginning but it wasn’t like he was doing it for the money. At first it was just friends of Laura’s, who were probably bullied by her into coming to get their car fixed, or bored housewives, who probably showed up more to watch Derek than to actually get their cars fixed. After a few months, word started to get around that he did good work and didn’t price gouge like his former employer. Soon after that he put his old boss out of business and hired a bunch of the guys he used to work with.

So he owned the whole shop and didn’t really have to be there afterhours working on minor stuff. But work was the only thing that could distract him even a little bit right now.

Distract him from Stiles.

It had been two months, one week, and five days since Stiles went away to college. That’s how long it had been since he’d seen Stiles. Skype didn’t count. Talking through a computer wasn’t the same as seeing someone face to face. You couldn’t smell someone through a computer, couldn’t touch them. Cell phones were no better. There was just something about the distortion of Stiles’ voice through the tiny speaker that got on his nerves. He wasn’t good at speaking to people when they were right in front of him, let alone miles away.

Neither of them had ever spoken about the night he had helped Stiles with his heat but it was always there, lurking underneath their every interaction. Derek tried not to think about it at all but the memories of that night would creep up on him. Mostly when he was in the shower or when he was alone in his room.

_At least it isn’t awkward between us._

Stiles had avoided him for a week after his heat, for which Derek was grateful. A week was how long it took for his own scent to fade from Stiles’ skin. If Stiles had been around him still smelling of his scent, Derek wasn’t sure he would have had the control to keep from jumping Stiles again.

That week was also filled with Laura yelling at him for not telling Stiles how he felt or even asking him out on a proper date. Even Peter had been exasperated with him. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit to them that he had given Stiles a claiming bite and he had rejected it. Thankfully, they let it drop once Stiles came back

After that they had just gone back to how they were before it had happened. Stiles finished high school as the Salutatorian, second only to Lydia Martin. Peter, Laura, and he had sat with Stiles’ dad as they cheered when Stiles’ name was called and after his speech. A week later, Stiles’ eighteenth birthday had arrived, along with the time to tell the Sheriff about being a werewolf.

The Sheriff had been a little skeptical at first, thinking it was some kind of elaborate joke that Stiles had roped them into helping with. To be fair, knowing Stiles and Peter’s history of practical jokes, it wasn’t that farfetched of an idea. His skepticism had dried up immediately when Stiles transformed right in front of him. Just like Stiles, his dad had a million and one questions to ask about werewolves, ranging from the full moon to silver and beyond.

The Sheriff relaxed a little once they made it clear that werewolves were not killers and that, at most, Stiles would run around the Preserve a few times a month howling at the moon. Other than that, he was still the same Stiles he had always been. Only now, he had enhanced senses, strength, and healing. The Sheriff perked up a bit when they mentioned the healing abilities and had grilled Peter thoroughly on their extent. When Peter mentioned that werewolves are impervious to cancer, the Sheriff had squeezed Stiles’ shoulder affectionately.

The Sheriff wasn’t stupid; he knew they’d been laying out all the good points to being a werewolf first. He listened carefully as Peter explained about anchors, controlling the wolf instincts, and how dangerous it was to be a wolf without a pack. When they explained about hunters, he figured out even faster than Stiles that the Hale fire was no accident.

“So you and your family didn’t do anything to warrant the hunters to attack you like that,” the Sheriff said in interrogation mode.

“Dad!” Stiles cried out in a mixture of horror and embarrassment. “How could you even say that?”

“No, it’s a fair question,” Peter had answered calmly. “You’re a police officer, you have access to the town records, how many murders or suspicious animal attacks were there in the years before the fire?”

“Almost none.”

“We were a family and this was our home for generations,” Peter said. “We would have had as much motive to attack other people as any other person in this town, werewolf or not. And I assure you venison taste much better than human.”

The Sheriff was quiet for a few minutes while he mulled it over.

“I was there that night,” the Sheriff said softly. “Just a rookie. No one could deserve to have something like that to happen to them. I just wish they still had the electric chair in California, so that bitch could fry for what she did.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Peter said.

The Sheriff was still a little shaky about the whole werewolf thing but he gave Stiles a tight hug and even accepted an invitation to come up to the Hale house on the next full moon, to see for himself that they weren’t rabid monsters.

After that, it was like a huge weight had lifted off Stiles’ shoulders. He was happier that Derek had ever seen him before and his smile was infectious. Not even the pack gathering being postponed for another year could dampen his spirits. Derek had secretly been happy with the news about the pack gathering being pushed back. It gave him more one on one time with Stiles that summer and he didn’t have to think about another werewolf catching Stiles’ eye.

As it was, Stiles spent nearly the whole summer with the pack training, camping, and hunting by moonlight. Derek couldn’t remember a time since before the fire that he had been so happy.

Then it was time for Stiles to go to college.

Originally, Stiles had wanted to go to the local community college one town over, where Derek and Laura had gone. Derek was a big supporter of that plan. Until Peter pointed out that with Stiles’ grades he could probably get into any school he wanted. When Stiles had answered back that he didn’t have the money to get into any of the really good school, Peter, Laura, and Derek had been stunned. They had plenty of money and Stiles was pack. They had simply taken it as a given that they would help Stiles pay for college. When Peter said as much to Stiles, it sparked off one of the only real disagreements they’d ever had.

Stiles didn’t want them to pay his tuition. He felt like it was charity. They tried to explain to him that that wasn’t the case but he just stormed out of the house. Surprisingly, it was the Sheriff who finally brought Stiles around. Stiles agreed that they could help him pay for college, only if he actually got in.

When Stiles’ acceptance letters for Berkeley came in, Derek was both happy and a little sad. Berkeley was a seven hour drive each way, which meant that Stiles couldn’t come home every night like he and Laura had. Still it was a great school and Stiles would really get the whole college experience if he went there.

A week before he left, they threw him a big party and went hunting in the Preserve as a pack. They also gave him going away gifts. Peter gave him an assortment of his favorite teas along with a credit card to pay for his school books and gas. Laura had snuck into Stiles’ room while he and Derek were out and shredded nearly all the clothes in his closet and dresser. She then took him to about a million different stores and bought him a whole new wardrobe for college. The clothes she got him were similar to his old clothes except there was a lot less flannel and they were much more formfitting, showing off the nice muscle definition he’d developed from running and training. Derek was a fan of the new clothes—for about two seconds—before he realized that the people at Berkeley would also be fans of the new clothes as well. After that, he went for a run, while Laura made Stiles model the rest of his new wardrobe for Peter and the Sheriff.

Derek’s gift had been a little simpler. He did a total overhaul on Stiles’ beloved blue jeep. He ended up replacing about half the parts in the engine, but when he was done it purred like a kitten. He even offered to repaint it a different color but Stiles liked the blue.

Derek had been tempted to stall the repairs on the jeep, in a vain attempt to keep Stiles from leaving. Fortunately, common sense won out and he realized that a rundown jeep wouldn’t prevent Stiles from leaving so much as it would prevent him from coming back as often. Besides, the look of utter joy on Stiles’ face when he took his fixed-up jeep on a test drive was well worth it. It was one of Derek’s new favorite memories. Everything had been so light and happy then.

Now Stiles was away at college and everything was dark again.

It wasn’t just that he missed Stiles—though he did. It was the constant wondering that killed him. Stiles told them all about college in his weekly calls but Derek knew there was a lot that he wasn't telling them. He wondered if Stiles really was enjoying his new classes or if his professors were as horrible as his high school teachers and Stiles was just putting on a brave front for them. He wondered if Stiles was getting enough to eat or if he was having any trouble controlling his wolf. He wanted to know if Stiles missed him even half as much as he missed Stiles.

And, when he was alone with his thoughts, he would even wonder if Stiles though about their night together like he did.

God, did he think about that night. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could see Stiles spread out before him moaning and writhing. He remembered exactly how Stiles smelt and tasted. Remembered how Stiles sounded moaning his name. Remembered all the little patterns of moles he traced with his fingers and tongue. Remembered the two dimples on Stiles’ lower back that his thumbs fit so perfectly into when he held Stiles’ hips from behind. Like Stiles’ body was molded just to fit him.

But Stiles probably didn’t think about that night. He didn’t think about Derek that way.

He had been coping with that and he thought he’d been doing an okay job. That was until a couple of weeks ago. It had been during one of Stiles’ weekly check-in phone calls to the pack. Everything had been fine. Hearing Stiles’ voice again—even distorted by the phone—was like heaven. Stiles had been telling them all about some interesting new assignment, when a voice rang out from the background.

“Stiles baby, stop talking you dad and come have some fun with us.”

Stiles had ignored the girl and kept talking to them but it still ate at the back of his mind.

He was well aware of how attractive Stiles was and had feared that Stiles would start dating at college but it was completely different to hear actual evidence of it.

Ever since that call, he couldn’t stop picturing Stiles with other people. Stiles going out on dates to the movies or a coffee shop. Stiles kissing other people. Stiles having sex with other people.

He tried to take out his frustration by running or working out more in the gym. He was pushing himself so hard that he’d actually gained fourteen pounds in new muscles—which only contributed to the steroids rumors. It still wasn’t enough though. His wolf was constantly howling for him to run up to Berkeley and claim Stiles, but he couldn’t do that because Stiles DIDN’T WANT HIM.

He could deal with that—was dealing with it.

But it was annoying to have to keep replacing his tools all the time because he was still so angry about the situation.

He should have better control than this. He’d been a werewolf all his life and even when he was just learning to control his shifts he hadn’t been this bad.

_Especially not around normal people._ He scolded himself.

To top it all off, there were _Hunters_ in town.

Peter had spotted them a few days ago, reeking of gunpowder and wolfsbane.

When Peter first told them the news, he had wanted to go after them and run them out of their territory. Peter held him back. That was just what the hunters wanted, he explained. The three hunters in town were young, younger than Laura and him. They weren’t the older, more experienced hunters; they were young hot-heads looking to prove themselves. The flagrant invasion of their territory was just an attempt to provoke an attack so they could justify their kill to other hunters who actually follow the code. Peter didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Instead, he had them wait and prepare for the inevitable attack.

There was no way they could pretend like they didn’t know the hunters were in town. It was a small town and the hunters were being much too obvious about their presence for that. So they pretended to ignore them instead. They went about their lives like they normally would; going to work, going to the store and things like that. They also added a few security cameras around their house. They would have to be very careful about shifting for the next few days (or weeks) until the hunters made their move.

Derek wiped the sweat off his brow and tossed the bent wrench back and his toolbox in disgust.

He hated waiting for something to happen. Hated having those arrogant pieces of murderous scum invading his home. He had been training and preparing to defend his pack and home against just such a thread for years and now his Alpha was telling him to stand down. He knew the reason why but it still made his blood boil. He was being stupid and short sighted but he couldn’t help it. He wanted them gone and Stiles home.

The few times he calmed down and could think clearly he realized that Stiles being away at college was actually a good thing. Peter was pretty sure that none of the hunters knew that Stiles was a werewolf, because there were no traces of their foul stench anywhere near Stiles’ house or the Sheriff’s station. That meant they weren’t targeting him and he was relatively safe. He just couldn’t help thinking that, if Stiles were here, he’d know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

Instead he was going out of his mind _waiting_.

While Peter may be giving the hunters a chance to walk away, he wasn’t stupid. Peter had a plan. He probably had multiple plans and back up plans for those plans. The only problem was that Peter wasn’t telling him anything about said plans. Peter and Laura were discussing what to do, while he was stuck in limbo. The only thing they’d told him was to keep calm and act normal. He wasn’t to attack the hunters unless they came after him first. Even then, they told him to only fend them off and get away.

He knew why. If they attacked first then it gave the hunters their excuse. Even if they managed to kill all three of them (which Derek though he could accomplish by himself) then they would have an even bigger problem on their hands. They may be stupid young hunters but they probably came from smart hunter families. Families that would rain down on Beacon Hills and turn it into a war zone, if the big bad werewolves harmed so much as a single hair on their saintly children’s heads. So they had to play this carefully. They weren’t as large of a pack as they had been. Most of his aunts, uncles, and cousins had scattered after his parents died, convinced that they would always have to live with a bull’s eye on their back if they stayed in Beacon Hills.

Derek would have agreed with them before, but things were different now. Peter was still in his prime and Laura and he were fully grown now. They were more than capable of defending themselves and, what’s more, this time they were prepared. Before the fire, they hadn’t paid enough attention to their safety, lulled into a false sense of security by years of peace and quiet. Now they knew, _really_ knew, that there were people out there who hated them, just for being what they were, and would kill them without mercy.

This time they had help in law enforcement.

They hadn’t told Stiles about the hunters yet. He could do anything to help from Berkeley and they didn’t want to risk him doing something foolish. The Sheriff, on the other hand, was warned just a few hours after they had found out themselves. For the most part, he was warned in case the hunters targeted him because of Stiles, though, as the hunters continued to ignore him that became a lesser concern.

Besides letting him know about the hunters for his own safety, letting the town Sheriff in on the fact that there were people in town, who had the intention of killing you, is a pretty good insurance policy. If anything were to happen to any member of the pack, then the Sheriff would know exactly who to look for.

Realizing that he couldn’t get any more work done tonight, even if he’d wanted to, Derek put away the rest of his tools and went to wash up. As he furiously scrubbed his hands, he fought back another wave of rage. He was jumpier and more agitated than normal, even when he took the hunter’s presence into consideration. He’d had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, since he’d woken up that morning. Looking over at the calendar on the wall, he shook his head in denial, as if he could make the idea go away by ignoring it strongly enough.

Once he got most of the grease off of his hands, he started closing up the shop. The entire time he kept one ear on the steady heartbeat a block down the road. One of the hunters had been watching his shop all day.

On the one hand, he hated the thought of the hunter following him. It made his hackles rise. He was a wolf. He stalked his prey. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who was stalked. But on the other hand, if that hunter was here, it meant that he was where Derek could keep tabs on him and not trapping his uncle or sister.

The hunters had been following all three of them, one for each of them, which was kind of a stupid move on their part. The three hunters together could have had a shot at taking one of them down but a single hunter against a single werewolf, who was aware of the hunter’s presence, was a drastically unfair fight, even when you take their guns into the equation. Not that Derek was complaining about those odds.

And that bothered him. Even if they were incredibly stupid, the hunters had to know that they weren’t a match for his pack. The only real chance a human had against werewolves—besides wolfsbane—was surprise, and they’d blown that at soon as they got into town. So, either the hunters were mentally challenged or they had something hidden up their sleeve. And if he had already figured it out than Peter definitely had as well. He just wasn’t telling Derek what he was going to do about it. For now, they were just waiting for the hunters to make the first move.

Locking up the shop, Derek focused on his breathing and heart rate. He managed to make it to his car without growling or flashing his eyes at the hunter who was blatantly watching him from the driver seat of a rental car. It was the hunter with spiky blonde hair and brown eyes.

_Not a warm amber brown like Stiles’_ He thought. _No, it’s more of a dull, mud brown._

He didn’t look like what you would expect of a hunter. He wasn’t hardened and muscled like Derek was. No, he looked more like some artistic college kid. Young and fresh faced. If Derek had to guess, he would say that this was his first time away from home. If it weren’t for the strong scent of wolfsbane on the kid, Derek would have had a hard time believing that the kid had anything to do with hunters.

_So much for the rigorous training hunters supposedly put their kids through._ Derek thought. _He still has baby fat for Pete’s sake. He doesn’t look like he could pass an ROTC class, much less take on a full-grown werewolf._

Starting his car, Derek threw one last contemptuous glance back at the hunter before pulling onto the road and heading home. He put his AC on full blast even though it was a cool night out.

In his Camaro, he would have been able to lose his follower in under a minute, if he had wanted to. Instead, he drove slowly—slow for him at least—making sure to follow every traffic law there was. Even the world’s worst detective would have been able to follow him. Not that it would take a detective to figure out that he was headed home.

The hunter turned off the road just before the gravel road leading up to the Hale house. The hunters weren’t as dumb as they appeared. They hadn’t once set foot on actual Hale lands. After all, they wouldn’t want to be caught on property the Hales owned, where they could—very legitimately—be arrested for trespassing. No, for now they were skirting the edge of what they could legally get away with.

Testing the waters Peter had said. Derek thought bear baiting would have been a better term.

Not that he let his guard drop at home either. That was just another reason to hate these hunters. They took the one place Derek was supposed to feel the safest and turned it into a prison.

Parking his car in his usual place, he let the car idle and just sat there for a moment. Sticking his face in front of one of the vents he let the cold air wash over him. He took a couple of deep breaths and then turned off the car and got out. He could hear Peter and Laura talking softly inside the house. Their conversation stopped as soon as Derek walked in the door.

Knowing they could hear his elevated heartrate, he quickly reassured them that nothing had happened.

“I’m alright,” he called out. “The hunter was just following me, nothing else.”

He heard Laura give a sigh of relief.

He took his time removing his shoes and placing his keys on the table by the door. He hesitated in the hallway for a few more seconds, wondering if he could avoid them by going upstairs to take a shower. Knowing that would just raise their suspicions even more, he gritted his teeth and made his way to the kitchen.

Peter was cooking dinner—stir fry from the smell of it—while Laura sat on the island counter drinking tea. Both of them froze when the kitchen door closed behind him, sending a wave of his scent in their direction. It only took one look to confirm Derek’s suspicion. One look to confirm what Derek had known and repressed since that morning.

He was in heat.


	2. Chapter 2 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumping to Stiles' POV for this chapter.

Indie rock was blaring from the speakers in the living room and the entire house stank of spilled beer and sweat. People were dancing everywhere or huddled in groups trying to scream at each other over the music. Then there were the people making out and dry humping against the walls.

 _Just a typical college party, like what you see in the movies._ He thought to himself.

He swirled cheap beer around in his red solo cup and fought back a sigh. He was at one of biggest parties, thrown by one of the coolest frats, and there were three smoking hot girls and one drop dead gorgeous looking guy, openly checking him out.

And he hated it.

The music was crappy—and way too loud—and all the smells were overwhelming his nose. The company wasn’t much better. As soon as he arrived the so-called friends he’d come with had disappeared into the crowd. Looking for them was hopeless, as he couldn’t take two steps without running into some drunken idiot yelling about how he was going to do a keg stand or some co-ed shrieking about how much she loved the song that was playing.

When he was in high school, he would have done anything to be where he was right now. But, of course, now that he was here, and getting people to pay attention to him, he didn’t care.

_Is it some weird unwritten law of the universe that you only become cool when you don’t care about being cool? Or maybe cool people are cool because they don’t care about being cool. Maybe it’s because, when you care about what people think of you, you are always on edge and nervous and people notice and think you’re too keyed up to have a good time. Whereas, when you don’t care you’re relaxed and look like you’re fun to hang with._

It was official. He had just figured out the secret to popularity. Of course, he figured it out four years too late. High school Stiles would have killed for this knowledge but now he couldn’t figure out what he had ever found appealing about parties like this. Then again, high school Stiles had also thought that he and Scott would be living together as party kings of college and that Lydia would be his girlfriend/fiancée.

Scott and he were barely even friends anymore. After Scott and his mom had moved to the East Coast, they had drifted apart. At first they had stayed in real close contact through texts and Skype chats. Soon, however, Scott started taking longer to text him back and they didn’t Skype as often. Scott found new friends and became completely obsessed about some girl named Samantha. During the last real conversation the two of them had Scott had gone on for half an hour about the perfect golden waves of her hair.

Then Stiles had been bitten by a rogue werewolf. When it had first happened, he had desperately wanted to tell Scott about it, but that wasn’t something you could put in a text or say over Skype. Do you know how easy it is to hack into someone else’s Skype chat? Danny had done it in under a minute. Stiles had timed it. Plus, there was probably some secret department of the government that monitored communications like that. Stiles might have been a little paranoid when he first realized what had happened to him, but there was no way he wanted to even take a chance of being locked up in some kind of Area 51 to be experimented on. Who would look after his dad and make sure he ate right if he was strapped to an operating table in some underground lab?

So, not being able to tell his best friend about something as life altering as turning into a werewolf had driven an even bigger wedge between them. They were also supposed to have gone to the same college together and be roommates as well, before Stiles had gotten into Berkeley and Scott decided to follow Samantha to an East Coast school. Now, the most he heard from Scott was when he posted a Facebook update.

Dating Lydia Martin was also a bust, as a little while before he became a werewolf he realized that he might be gay or at least bi. He was absolutely certain he was into guys the first time he laid eyes on his packmate, Derek Hale. Just thinking of Derek did funny things to his insides. His crush on Derek beat his crush on Lydia by a mile. By a thousand miles. But the odds of him getting together with Derek were even more stacked against him than with Lydia.

So now, instead of partying with his best friend and perfect girlfriend, he just stood there, a lonely island of boredom, as a sea of drunken revelry swirled around him. He took another swig of beer just to have something to do and tried not to grimace at the taste. Alcohol no longer held the any allure for him, now that it didn’t affect him.

_Maybe that’s why everyone else is having such a good time. Being drunk probably made these parties a lot better._

He may not have been enjoying the party but it was better than just sitting in his dorm room.

Living in the dorms had been a huge change as well. He knew it would be different than living at home, but he never really thought about what that would mean. At first it had been great. Everything at college had been great at first. No chores, no curfew, no one to tell him to stop playing video games and go to bed.

His professors loved him. Granted, since his ADHD had been cured, he had a much easier time focusing on his work. But it was more than that. Here he wasn’t ‘That weird Stilinski kid’ that teachers warned each other about. Here he was just Stiles. He was a smart student, who was always eager to learn and usually came up with new and interesting topics for his research papers that broke the monotony of the same old things his professors were used to grading.

He’d made a ton of new friends, which really surprised him. Being the Sheriff’s kid hadn’t won him many friends back home. And certainly no one had wanted to invite him to a party back home and risk that he would narc them out to his dad. But he wasn’t the Sheriff’s kid here. Here he was just another kid going to college. Here he was just like anyone else.

With the exception of being a werewolf, of course.

His roommate was a pretty okay guy too. Seth was the same age as him with sandy hair and grey eyes. He was a little shorter than Stiles and less muscled. Best of all, he was here on an academic scholarship, so he didn’t have to worry about having some rich brat party animal always interrupting his study time. The two of them instantly bonded over video games and a shared love of Marvel movies. He was even fine with Stiles’ being gay. That had been one of Stiles’ biggest worries about having a roommate.

When his dad and the Hales had helped him move his stuff and made sure he was settled, it was great. He’d been so excited about starting the next part of his life and getting the whole college experience. But once they left, his new room had felt oddly foreign. It just didn’t feel like home. It felt more like a hotel room. Even with all his stuff there, it felt like something was missing.

It took him two weeks to realize that it was the smell that was off. His room didn’t smell like home. It didn’t have the subtle traces of his dad’s scent that his room back home had and it didn’t have the mingled scents of his packmates that the Hale house had.

Part of the reason was Seth. Being an only child, Stiles had never had to share his room with anyone—he’d had sleepovers with Scott in the past, but that wasn’t the same as living with him all the time. It was like Seth was invading his space—even when he was on the opposite side of the room—and Stiles’ wolf didn’t like that. No matter how much he liked the guy, he would never be completely comfortable in a room drenched with the other guy’s scent. Seth wasn’t family—wasn’t pack.

That was the core of the problem. Stiles was too far away from his pack. Wolves weren’t meant to be solitary creatures, they were meant to be a family. The wolf in him cried out for closeness with his packmates and his father. Everything he did just reminded him of something he was missing at home.

When he ate a bunch of junk food, he would always worry that his dad wasn’t keeping to his diet at home. When he picked out something to wear, he would hear Laura’s voice in his head offering advice on what shirt would look good with the pants he was wearing. When he was in class listening to a professor lecture, he would wonder what witty comments Peter would make about the subject.

And Derek. Stiles was constantly plagued with thoughts of Derek. They would sneak up on him, when he was studying or eating. They would fill his mind when he was in the shower or at night when he tried to fall asleep. He’d even popped a boner in class once, when the professor was lecturing on a particularly dull subject and he’d let his mind wander back to the night of his first Heat.

That night had been the best and worse night of his life. He had gotten to have amazing, mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex with the person he was absolutely head over heels for. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of and wished for. _I guess that’s what they mean when they say to be careful what you wish for._ Stiles thought. Because even though he’d gotten what he’d wanted, it wasn’t for the reason he wanted. Derek had only had sex with him because he was in heat, not because Derek actually wanted to be with Stiles. And Stiles had to live with that.

He’d tried dating someone else—both guys and girls—to try and get Derek off of his mind. So far he hadn’t had any luck, other than finding out that he really was more interested in guys than girls. He’d always considered himself bi but he was quickly finding out that he tended to appreciate feminine beauty more than actually being aroused by it. But he’d still met some really awesome people; people who he would have loved to have gone out with before he met Derek. Most of them were just like him. They shared his interests and his opinions on comics and great TV series and movies. But that kind of turned out to be the problem.

He didn’t want to be with a clone of himself. Someone who would just agree with all his opinions about something. It felt too much like he was dating Scott. He wanted someone who would disagree with him and make him have to really work for it to win an argument. Someone who would push back and really challenge him.

He wanted someone like…Derek.

Realizing that he wasn’t ready to have a relationship with someone else he had tried to just hook up with someone, just to get Derek out of his system. After all, wasn’t college all about experimentation and fooling around?

That turned out to be easier said than done for a werewolf.

Finding someone who wanted him hadn’t been as big of a problem as he had originally thought. In high school he’d been a total loser that no one wanted to be seen with, but college was a whole other story. It was a little overwhelming. Though in his mind, most of the attention he received was due to his werewolf toned body and the clothes Laura had bought for him.

Most of his new wardrobe consisted of tight fitting graphic T-shirts and designer jeans. All of it was much tighter than he was used to wearing but he soon grew accustomed to them. He still shuddered every time he remembered the hours Laura had spent dragging him all over the mall, from one store to another, grabbing things off the rack, seemingly at random, loading his arms up with it all, and shoving him into the dressing rooms. He’d only just managed to convince her to wait outside and let him dress himself. Even though he had grumbled and complained the whole time, he had to admit that he looked pretty good.

So finding a willing body wasn’t the problem. The problem was in his head.

It was hard enough to look at someone else without mentally comparing them to Derek, but to try and be physically intimate was near impossible. Whenever he would get too close to someone their scent would put him off and his wolf would growl to get away. If he ever did manage to control his wolf long enough to get to kissing, then the kissing would be all wrong. The few people he kissed were all too soft, timid, and unsure. Not the confident and passionate kissing he just knew Derek would be a master of. And if they were this bad at just kissing, then how awful would the actual sex be?

The one time he’d managed to get even a little bit turned on was because the guy had a bit of stubble on his chin and he’d been able to image that it was Derek kissing him. That had lasted about a second, before he remembered that he was supposed to be forgetting about Derek.

And the absolute worst thing was that every time he tried to hook up with anyone it always felt like he was _cheating_ on Derek. Which was ridiculous, because he and Derek were never together in the first place? But still…

So, Stiles’ sex life at college had consisted solely of his own right hand.

That and thoughts of Derek.

He tried to think about someone else but even watching porn didn’t do it for him anymore. Only thinking about Derek did. Remembering his voice or how his hands had felt on his skin. Remembering Derek’s knot filling him so incredibly full.

Or that bite.

The second time Derek had knotted him during his heat, Derek had bitten the back of his neck, _hard_. Instead of finding it weird or painful, it had actually been the thing that tipped Stiles over the edge into the best orgasm of his life. It must have been a really deep bite too because it had actually taken a few days to heal.

After his heat had ended he avoided the rest of the pack until it had healed and Derek’s scent on him had faded. He hadn’t wanted to have to deal with the pack teasing him about either of those things. So instead, he spent the week at home, jerking off to memories of his heat. During that time, all Stiles had to do was touch the bite mark on his neck and he would cum. He was even a little sad when it finally healed. He had loved having Derek’s mark on his body. Like a sign that Derek had _claimed_ him.

It was that thought that still got him hard, even months after the bite mark had healed. And nothing else could even come close to the feeling it gave him.

 _I guess once you go were*, nothing else can compare_ He thought dejectedly.

Maybe that was the real problem. Maybe he just didn’t want to get involved with a human. Maybe he just wanted to be with another werewolf. Derek was the only werewolf anywhere near his age and his type so he was really the only one Stiles _could_ think about. Maybe if he met some other werewolves, who he could potentially date, his obsession with Derek would go away.

It really sucked that the pack gathering had been postponed for another year. That would have been the perfect opportunity to test that theory. Apparently, another pack had wanted to attend as well but they had a few members who were still learning control. Although, that might be a good thing. More werewolves meant a bigger potential dating pool. Seeing one of the girls who were trying to eye-fuck him, make a suggestive motion towards one of the rooms upstairs, Stiles fought the urge to snarl at her and thought the pack gathering couldn’t happen soon enough.

Shaking his head at the girl, he started scanning the room. Looking out the sliding glass doors, he saw two hulking football players—judging by the jerseys they were wearing—pick up a third guy and toss him into the pool.

“They’re so _wild_!” screeched a blond sorority-type girl, a little to his left.

Cringing a little at her high-pitched fake laugh, he couldn’t help but smirk at what she said. The people at this part had no idea what _wild_ truly was. None of them had ever gone running through the woods on a clear night with only the light of the full moon to guide them. They’d never felt their pulse pounding with the thrill of the chase. Never felt an inner beast surge into control of their body and act on pure instinct.

None of them were werewolves.

Realizing that sitting alone in his dorm might actually be better than this party, he decided to leave early and head home. If nothing else he could do some studying for his physics exam. He definitely wanted to keep his grades up. Not just for himself, so that he could get a good job one day, but to make sure that he wasn’t wasting all the money Peter was shelling out for his education.

He had been against the idea of Peter paying for his tuition right from the start. He didn’t want to be a charity case and had even gotten into a big argument about it. He still remembered storming out of the Hale house that day and racing home. Hours later, when his dad arrived home, he was still angry to the point where his father had feared he might lose control. Smelling his father’s fear had calmed him down real quick.

When he explained the situation to his father, he thought that he would have been on his side about the whole thing. Shockingly, his dad sided with Peter. He was pack and pack was like family and you helped your family with anything and everything. Pity had absolutely nothing to do with it. His dad had explained it to him with so much understanding that, if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that his dad had been part of a werewolf pack all his life.

He ended up accepting Peter’s offer. After all, he had never dreamed that he would actually get into such a great school like Berkeley. Apparently, he had been the only one who was surprised.

At first he had still wanted to try for some scholarships so Peter didn’t have to pay for everything. That stopped when Peter quickly pointed out that any scholarships he accepted would be taking an opportunity away from another person who didn’t have someone who could pay for their education, like he did.

So, here he was, getting a free college education, from one of the best universities in the country, and he would be damned if he was going to just waste it partying like some of the spoiled, rich kids he’d met. He’d though Jackson had been a douche in high school. Jackson Whitmore had nothing on the preppy, asshole jerks he’d met here.

Making his way through the throng of drunken underclassmen, he managed to make it to the front door, with a minimum of elbows to his ribs and groping hands on his ass. Once he was outside, he felt infinitely better. The fresh air lifted his spirits, as he made his way through the maze of parked cars and back toward his dorm. He’d walked there, correctly assuming that the place would be packed and that getting in or out in a vehicle would be problematic.

It was a nice night out. It was getting colder out but not so bad that Stiles needed to start bundling up—he tended to wear fewer layers of clothing now that he was a werewolf and had a higher body temperature than most people. There was also a pleasant breeze and a half moon lit up the sky.

_A good night to go for a run._

Running was a great way to burn off all the nervous energy he built up and served as a great excuse for how he stayed so fit with all the junk food he consumed. It was also one of the few ways he could let his wolf out a little, so far away from the safety of the Preserve back home. He would mostly go on early morning runs. Very early morning. Like, ass crack of dawn early. His body had rebelled at first, wanting to sleep in as much as possible, now that most of his classes didn’t start till at least noon, but he needed to let lose a little and early morning runs were the safest way.

Most students had his same mentality and preferred to sleep late, turning the whole campus into a ghost town in the early morning hours. Those students who did have early classes were like zombies and didn’t notice much on their way to class. However, that didn’t mean he could let his guard down completely. He still took precautions. He always went out swathed in his red Beacon Hills hoodie that he could pull down to cover his glowing eyes and sideburns. The overlong sleeves were also great for hiding his claws.

But even with his hoodie, it wasn’t a good idea to go for one of his usual runs tonight. There were too many drunken college kids out tonight. It was a Friday night and there were no classes on Monday because of some Federal holiday, so everyone was living it up. He couldn’t risk wolfing out on his run and accidently coming across a bunch of morons who decided it would be a good idea to wander off into the woods in their drunken stupor.

Instead, he trudged back to his dorm and took the three flights of stairs up to his floor. Once he reached his room he kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh. He just laid there for a while, staring up at the posters on his wall. He should be studying right now. That was the excuse he told himself to justify leaving the party after all.

There were a million things he could be doing from partying to studying to gaming online, but he didn’t want to do anything.

_Ennui – a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from a lack of interest._

Thanks to AP English, he at least knew what was wrong with him even if he didn’t know how to fix it. He felt like this a lot here. It was a little better when other people were around but at times like these there was no help for it. He just wanted to go to sleep and hope that things were better in the morning.

The only problem was that he wasn’t the least bit tired. Emotionally exhausted maybe, but not physically tired. That was another problem he’d had here. Just falling asleep became a challenge, when his wolf was always on edge about intruders because he could hear everyone else who lived on his floor.

So, he fell back on his old tried and true method of helping to put himself to sleep.

Masturbation.

He hadn’t had as many opportunities to do this as he would have thought. He was still a teenage boy and jacked off a lot, but not as often as he had back home. Back home, he knew when his dad was at work, could lock his bedroom door, and take his time. Here, there was always the chance of his roommate or some other new friend bursting in on him, plus these walls were really thin. So thin that Stiles wouldn’t really have needed werewolf senses to overhear what the guys in the rooms next to him were doing or who they were doing.

_Thank God for noise canceling headphones._

But tonight all his neighbors were gone. Probably out partying. In fact, he couldn’t hear a single heartbeat on the entire floor. So, he stripped off his shirt and went to his bedside table and dug out his bottle of lube. Lying back on the bed he relaxed and let his mind wander. Closing his eyes, he flipped through the mental images of his spank bank.

Derek in his mechanics clothes covered in grease stains. Derek in his workout clothes, all sweaty and flushed. Derek in his leather jacket and aviators, sitting in his car. Derek shirtless and wolfed out looking at him like he was the greatest thing in the world.

Stiles groaned as blood rushed to his cock. Thinking about Derek in any way never failed to get him hard. Hell he could be picturing Derek all covered up like an Eskimo and he’d still get aroused. But thinking about the way Derek looked at him, when he was in heat made him shiver in desire. After he went through is heat, he researched everything he could about the subject, everything from scientific papers on wolf mating to a ton of fictional werewolf erotica. He knew that Derek hadn’t really wanted him and had just been responding to the pheromones that his body had been releasing, but his brain and his dick weren’t always on the same page.

Reaching down he cupped the growing bulge in his pants, imagining that it was Derek’s hand on him. He couldn’t help picturing the desire and downright _need_ that had been in Derek’s eyes that night. It was so different from the closed off neutrality that was usually on his face. It was raw and vulnerable and it made his heart skip a beat.

His dick was starting to rub painfully at the zipper of his jeans, so he clumsily undid his pants and kicked them off, along with his boxers. Stroking himself lightly, he thought back to how Derek’s large, callused hand felt wrapped around his cock. He tried to mimic Derek’s slow and steady strokes, as he squeezed a little tighter. His other hand snaked its way along his chest, teasing his nipples lightly, before moving up to the back of his neck, to the spot where Derek had bitten him. Angling his fingers, he pressed his nails into the skin so that they almost felt like teeth. Groaning, as his dick twitched excitedly, becoming fully hard.

Taking his hand away from his neck, he grabbed for the bottle of lube on the bed next to him and expertly flicked it open. He squirted a good amount on his other hand and let it warm up before he started stroking himself again. Feeling the wet slickness around his cock made his brain jump to memories of when Derek had sucked him off. He remembered the wet heat and how great it felt when Derek swallowed him down till the tip of his dick touched the back of his throat. The whole time Derek’s eyes had never left Stiles face. Those gorgeous central heterochromia eyes—yes, that’s what they are, Stiles had spent hours looking up what the heck kind of eyes Derek had—boring into him had only made it hotter.

Increasing his speed, he started rubbing his thumb along the head of his dick on the upstrokes. Precum started dribbling out of the tip, but it still wasn’t enough. Pausing for a moment, he coated a few of the finger of his other hand with lube. Then he spread his legs and brought his knees up. Taking one lubed up finger he gently traced around his entrance teasingly, just like Derek had done. He kept that up for a few moments before shoving his index as deep inside himself as he could. The sudden intrusion sent sparks of pleasure up his spine. When the rim of his hole had stretched around his second knuckle, it had reminded him of when Derek’s knot had started swelling but he had still pounded into Stiles a few more times.

He was getting close. His other hand frantically stroked his cock, as he added a second finger and began curling them to press against his prostate. Slick, wet noises and the sound of his own ragged breath filled the room. He moaned and squirmed as the pressure built up inside him. He pressed his head further back into pillow, imagining that Derek was pressing him down harder against the bed, whispering dirty things in his ear.

  ** _I’m gonna knot you so tight. Fill you so full; it’ll be leaking out of you for days. Everyone will be able to smell me on you. They’ll know I fucked you good and hard._**

That’s what Derek had said right before he’d knotted him. His voice had been low and growly. So full of dominance and possessiveness that even remembering it made his inner wolf whine and want to roll over and show its belly. Sometimes, he swore he could have gotten off to the sound of Derek voice alone.

He was so close. With the sound of Derek’s voice ringing through his mind, he stretched the fingers in his ass a little wider and came, muscles clenching and back arching. He moaned Derek’s name as ropes of cum painted his stomach and chest, pleasure surging through his entire body.

Breathing heavily, he took the fingers out of his ass and let go of his oversensitive cock. He laid there for a few minutes feeling heavy and boneless. He also felt incredibly guilty. Derek was his friend, his packmate, and here Stiles was using thoughts of him to get off. He felt like the worse kind of pervert. Derek probably thought of him like a little brother and trusted him like family. But he just couldn’t help wanting to be with Derek in a not so platonic way.

But more than wanting to have sex with him, he wanted to be with Derek. He missed Derek. Missed the easy way they could talk to each other even when he was the one doing most of the talking. Missed the way Derek would roll his eyes and pretend that he didn’t secretly love some of the outrageous things Stiles said. Loved the way that Derek never made fun of him even if it was only jokingly. Loved the way Derek could be so impatient and frustrated at something Stiles wasn’t getting right but still never gave up trying to teach him. Loved how Derek just understood him.

_Fuck, I'm so screwed._

Realizing that he should do something about the rapidly cooling cum on his chest and the lube on his hands, he got up and walked down the hall to the floor’s shared bathroom and cleaned himself up.

He hated that bathroom most of all. It reeked of cheap soap and too much Axe body spray. The mirror was perpetually covered in toothpaste splatters, no matter how many times it was cleaned. There was always a line right when he really needed to piss and there was never enough hot water.

He hated everything about Berkeley at the moment. He was sad and lonely and homesick. Yes, Stiles was homesick. In fact, he regretted ever coming out here and just wanted to go home.

_So why don’t you?_

The thought struck him like lightning. Why didn’t he go home? Just for a visit. He hadn’t gone home for a visit yet, because he had still been getting used to college life and the homework had been a lot more challenging than in high school. His grades just couldn’t afford to take the fourteen hour round trip—plus the actual time he spent at home—away from his study time.

But there were no classes Monday, because of the holiday and he didn’t have any classes on Tuesday this semester. That was a four day weekend he could spend at home with his pack. He could check on his dad to make sure he was eating right and maybe Peter or Laura would have some advice for dealing with his homesickness. And he could see Derek again. That alone would be worth the long drive.

Running back to his room in excitement, he threw his clothes back on and scrambled to put together everything he’d need for the weekend. Just a few things like clothes and the stuff he didn’t trust to leave lying around for days while he was gone, like his laptop.

Hastily scribbling a note to Seth, saying not to expect him back till late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning, he grabbed his keys, and headed out the door. He was halfway down the hall when another idea struck him. Running back to his room, he scrambled around, snatching up all his dirty laundry—and some of his clothes that were still clean—into the big mesh bag he used to carry it on laundry day.

His idea was brilliant. He’d do his laundry at home, or maybe even at the Hale house. He would save money by not having to use the coin operated machines at the dorm and there would be the added bonus of getting a good dose of pack scent into them that he could bring back with him. It was a small thing but it would go a long way to easing his homesickness.

Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he flicked off the lights and shut the door. He practically skipped down the hall in his excitement. He felt lighter and happier than he had in months just at the thought of going home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *When Stiles thinks to himself “Once you go were, nothing else can compare” the word “were” is supposed to be pronounced like it is in “werewolf” not like in “Where were you”. I tried to find something that rhymed with wolf but apparently it’s one of those words like orange that has no other words that rhyme with it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be back to Derek's POV. It might take a little longer for me to update this time because I'm still helping my brother watch his kids in what is usually my writing time.
> 
> Comments and critiques are alway welcome.


	3. Chapter 3 Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter took longer than I expected to update. I had a major writer's block problem with writing this chapter so I procrastinated by working on the chapter after this one. That one should definitely be up soon. I might even have to break it into two chapters.
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy.

 

“Ugh, I can’t believe we forgot that your heat would be happening soon,” Laura said jumping down from the kitchen counter. “It always happens around this time. We should have remembered that.”

“It’ll be fine,” Derek ground out through a tightly clenched jaw. “I’ll deal with it.”

“It’s not fine, Derek,” Laura snapped. “Your heat has started and there are hunters in town and—”

“I know, Laura,” Derek growled.

“We should call Stiles and—,”

“No!” Derek cut Laura off. “Stiles is **safe** at Berkeley. The hunters don’t know about him and it’s going to stay that way.”

Much as his wolf wanted Stiles to be there right now, the need to keep him safe was stronger.

“We would have to call him either way, Derek,” Laura lectured in pseudo-Alpha mode. “We can either call Stiles to help you through your heat or we call him to help us fight to make up for your weakened condition.”

“I’m not in a _weakened condition_ ,” Derek snarled. “I’m in heat. I go through it every year and I’m always _fine_.”

“You’re not physically weakened, but your decision making will be impaired,” Laura went on. “You have a short enough temper on your own but combined with your heat—”

“If you children are done bickering,” Peter cut in, “we do in fact have to discuss what to do in regards to this new development.”

He and Laura quieted down and turned towards their Alpha. Peter took a moment to turn off the stove and move the pan he had been cooking dinner in to another burner. Then he turned to face them.

“Now,” Peter said authoritatively, looking directly at Laura. “I agree with Derek that we should leave Stiles at Berkeley—for now.”

Derek relaxed a little with the knowledge that Stiles would stay safe.

“But,” Peter continued, turning to Derek, “I do agree with Laura that your control might be compromised by your heat.”

“I’ve never had any problems keeping control during my heats,” Derek said, even though he knew it was a lie.

Peter raised an eyebrow at that. Derek couldn’t hold his gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor.

“That was one time,” Derek grumbled. “And those were different circumstances.”

“They are too similar to our present circumstances for my liking,” Peter countered.

“I’ll be fine,” Derek huffed. “I’m stronger now.”

Derek felt Peter’s hand come to rest on his shoulder but he still kept his eyes on the floor.

“It’s not about strength, Derek,” Peter said softly.

“Whatever”

“Derek, don’t be like that,” Laura pleaded.

“I need to go for a run,” he stated and turned to leave.

“Derek the hunters—”

“I’ll stay away from the hunters, Laura. I’m not stupid,” he snarled, as he headed towards the stairs.

“I didn’t mean…I just…” he heard Laura say softly.

“It’ll be okay, Laura,” he heard Peter tell her. “He knows. He just has to blow off some steam.”

 

 

He smelled smoke. He had smelled smoke constantly since he first learned of the hunters’ arrival. He smelled it everywhere, but it was particularly strong at home, in the house that was rebuilt from the ashes of his childhood home. It was suffocating and he couldn’t escape it, not even in his own bedroom. Everywhere he looked just reminded him of what he’d lost all those years ago and what could still be taken from him now.

The rebuilt house wasn’t an exact duplicate of the one he’d grown up in. The three of them had decided that that would be too painful. Instead, they had changed subtle things about the layout. Just enough, so that it didn’t constantly bring up painful memories, yet similar enough to still feel like home. At the moment it was too similar for Derek to handle. He needed to be outside, in the fresh air. He needed to let lose, in the woods, so that he could try and outrun the smell of smoke. His wolf had been simmering just below the surface all day, but now it was raging to get out.

Changing quickly into a pair of running shorts, he thought about putting on a tank top but decided against it. He was already warm enough from his heat. Then he headed back down the stairs and out the back door. He chose to go barefoot so that he would be able to feel the earth under his feet. Just that little bit of connection to nature helped calm him down some. It was late, near midnight, and the moon was already high in the sky.

_Almost a full moon._

It was about a week away from the full moon. One of Peter’s theories was that the hunters were waiting until the full moon to attack. If that was true, than it was a risky move on the hunter’s part. Technically, the full moon was when a werewolf had the least control of their wolf side and, theoretically, easier to outsmart, but it was also when they were at their strongest. Also, born wolves, like his family, had little problem controlling themselves during the full moon. He’d been able to go out and even interact with people on full moon nights since he was a child.

_Except for that one time…_

He shook his head to get rid of that thought. He was supposed to be out here to get away from bad thoughts. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scents of the forest soothed him. There were the smells of fresh air, damp earth, decaying leaves, tree bark and sap, pine needles, acorns, and the occasional mushroom. All these smells and more filled his nose and his wolf yipped in excitement.

He took off at a normal human pace, until he was out of range of the security cameras they’d set up around the house, then switched to a run that no human could have kept up with. His feet dug into the dirt before pushing off into the air again. He jumped over felled trees and swung on low hanging branches. Soon enough, he was deep into the Preserve, running along familiar paths, though they wouldn’t look like paths to a human. This far into the Preserve, the average human would already be hopelessly lost, unless they were familiar with the area. But even veteran forest rangers would have a hard time finding their way here. Only a wolf’s senses would be able to pick out the game trails with such ease.

Even as he let lose to enjoy the run, he was still wary of dangers or signs of intruders. The pack patrolled the Preserve regularly. Usually about once a week, a member of the pack would run a full perimeter check on the Preserve to make sure there hadn’t been any trespassers. Derek volunteered for this duty the most often, ever vigilant for any sign of threat. It also served the purpose of clearly scent marking the edges of their territory, so any werewolves passing by would know that this territory was claimed by another pack.

He also kept an eye out for hunter traps and not just the kind that poachers or out of season deer hunters set. Werewolf hunters were notorious for setting up snare traps of high tensile steel wire that could string up a full-grown werewolf until the hunters arrived. So far, they hadn’t found any snares or other traps that hunters like to set in the Preserve.

And that was another thing that was off about these hunters. Just how were they planning to take on the pack? Wolfsbane bullets were a hunter’s most formidable weapon but good luck getting a werewolf to sit still while you shot at them if they knew who and where you were. They couldn’t possibly think that wolfsbane alone would be enough, not when they’d given away the element of surprise.

It was too confusing and Derek hated it. He liked things clear cut and simple. He preferred to just go at his enemy straight on. All this plotting and manipulation was Peter’s area of expertise. But he also knew that Peter was right in that they had to be very careful with how they handled this situation. He understood what was at risk and he wouldn’t put his family in jeopardy, whether he was in heat or not.

At least not intentionally.

He had to admit that this time he was having more trouble controlling himself than usual. It had to do with the hunters being in town. He couldn’t help it. The last time hunters had been around like this his parents had been killed. There had been a couple times in the past few years when a hunter had come into town.

 _Checking up on us_. _Making sure we weren’t eating helpless little girls in red cloaks and their grandmothers._

But Peter had always dealt with them, on those rare occasions. One time he took Laura, as part of her Alpha training, but he’d made sure to keep Derek far away.

 _Protecting me._ He thought bitterly.

He spent most of his time since the fire training and preparing for the day when he would be needed to protect his pack, and now when that day had come, he was retreating into the woods. Peter and Laura didn’t trust him not to screw things up and the damn hunters were just taunting them.

And he was scared.

The hunters being here terrified him. Not the actual hunters themselves. Derek was pretty sure he could take all three of them on by himself, without even breaking a sweat. But the idea that _Hunters_ were here again and that if he weren’t careful, even more of them would come invading his home. It made him feel like he was sixteen-years-old again and just as helpless to protect his pack as he had been the night of the fire.

Letting out a roar of anger and frustration, he took a swipe at a low hanging tree branch and ended up ripping the branch off the tree completely.

Peter and Laura were right. He was having trouble controlling his himself.

_Maybe that’s what the hunters were counting on._

Growling at himself, he took off in a different direction. He ran for hours, checking nearly the entire Preserve for any sign of hunters and to avoid having to go back to a house that smelt like smoke. He slowed down a little when he got to a familiar area—not that the entire Preserve wasn’t familiar to him. It was a little clearing that Peter had often taken Stiles too for training sessions.

A sudden memory popped into his head and he nearly collapsed as arousal shot through his body.

It was the memory of when he realized just how interested in Stiles he really was. A few months after Stiles had been bitten and joined their pack, Peter had started training Stiles on how to defend himself against another werewolf. Naturally, Derek had been his sparring partner. By this time he had already started to develop not so platonic feelings for Stiles, but he was in denial. He couldn’t admit that Stiles’ quick wit, easy smile, and genuine caring nature had already begun to worm its way under Derek’s skin. And if Derek had started picturing pale mole-dotted skin and caramel brown eyes when he jerked-off, then it was pure coincidence.

That particular sparring match had started out like any other training session. The goal had been for Stiles to pin Derek to the ground. For the most part Derek succeeded in keeping Stiles pined while the younger wolf fought against him. On the sidelines, Laura would shout encouragement for Stiles to not give up and Peter would calmly advise Stiles to use his superior agility to get the upper hand.

The entire match he’d been a little aroused—how could he not be—from Stiles wiggling and squirming in his grasp. Stiles was supposed to be trying to get out of Derek’s grip, but somehow it always felt like he was intentionally trying to rub and grind against him instead. The few times Stiles had been able to get out of his hold were because Derek didn’t want to hold Stiles in way that would let Stiles feel that he was half-hard.

He also took advantage of training sessions to rub his own scent all over Stiles. Now, he knew it was because he wanted to mark Stiles as his own, but back then he’d tried to convince himself that it was just to mark him as pack. It also helped to put Stiles’ scent on him. The younger wolf’s scent had been intoxicating that day. It had been rich and musky and the exertion of training had only made it more potent. It had filled his nose and he hadn’t been able to hold himself back from taking a few covert sniffs whenever Stiles wouldn’t notice.

It was one of the times, when he was distracted trying to take a deeper sniff, that something totally unexpected happened. Stiles had nipped him on the neck. To a human it meant nothing, but to a wolf it was a declaration of intent. A sign from one wolf to another, that he was not only interested but actively initiating a courtship. He knew Stiles hadn’t meant anything by it—other than a diversionary tactic—that Stiles had been thinking like a human, not a wolf. He had known that but it hadn’t stopped Derek’s inner wolf from rising up with a ferocity that he had never felt before. He had been almost overcome with the urge to rip Stiles’ clothes off, pin him to the ground, and claim him, right in front of his uncle and sister.

Thankfully, the human part of his brain opted for the flight choice of the fight-or-flight mode. He shoved the younger wolf away from himself with such force that Stiles went flying a few feet and even bounced. Peter and Laura had just stared at him. He didn’t know if it was his glowing eyes or the prominent erection that tipped them off but he could see it in their faces that they knew exactly what had just occurred.

When Stiles had started to get up, he couldn’t bear to face him, so he turned tail and ran off into the woods. He only stopped a few miles away to furiously jerk-off against a tree and then ran some more. When he finally came home, Stiles had already left. Peter remained silent on the whole matter but Laura hounded him for weeks to tell Stiles how he felt. Mercifully, she never brought it up in front of Stiles and Stiles never mentioned the incident.

Now, standing in this same clearing, the memory came back to him with crystal clarity. He remembered the feel of Stiles’ teeth on his neck, his breath on his skin. Then those thoughts snowballed into thoughts of the night of Stiles’ heat. Stiles flushed and sweaty, his eyes half lidded in lust, looking at Derek like he was the answer to all his prayers.

_Fuck!_

He was hard. Since he was in heat, he would be at least partially hard for the entire week, but right now, he was fully hard and throbbing. He stumbled forward a few steps and braced himself against a tree. Reaching down with one hand he started to tug on his cock through his running shorts. Precum was already soaking into his shorts so he pulled them down to just below his balls.

Grunting harshly, he wrapped a hand around his cock and started pulling on it roughly. He didn’t have time for finesse. He needed to cum. Closing his eyes, he imagined Stiles how he was when he’d given him a blow job, half wolfed out and writhing on the bed. He could almost hear Stiles calling out his name in pleasure.

He was so worked up that he lost his balance and collapsed to his knees on the forest floor but he still kept stroking himself. Thrusting his hips into his hand, he panted and groaned Stiles’ name as he came, hot squirts of cum covering his stomach.

When he was able to breathe properly again, he cursed himself for his own weakness. He had been trying to stop thinking about Stiles like that, especially since Stiles didn’t feel that way about him. Stiles was his pack brother and deserved to be treated with respect, not to have thoughts of him used like a seedy magazine.

He pulled his shorts up and tried to clean the cum off of himself. Trying to wipe the cum off of his hands on the ground failed. He just ended up adding dirt to the cum stuck on his hands. He would have to go down to the river and clean off a little. Getting back up to his feet, he cast one more glance around the clearing and then ran in the opposite direction.

 

 

Laura was waiting for him on the back porch, when he finally went back home a little after dawn. She would have heard him as he got closer to the house but only stood up to greet him when he cleared the tree line.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he heard her perfectly. “I didn’t mean make you feel like you were doing something wrong, because you aren’t.”

Derek didn’t say anything. Didn’t trust himself to say anything.

“I’m just scared, Derek,” she whimpered. “Hunters have come to town a few times since the fire but never like this. I just want to make them to go away and I don’t know how to do that without causing even more problems.”

Somehow, it made him feel a little better, to know that she was feeling just as scared and helpless as he was. Laura was always the confident one, the Alpha heir, but she needed comforting just as much as he did. Realizing that, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t hesitate to hug him back, even though he was all sweaty and probably smelled like dirt and cum. Some of the tension eased from both of them.

“And I want Stiles to be here,” she continued, hugging him tighter when he tensed again. “Not to help us fight, but just so I can make sure he’s alright. He’s pack but he’s so far away and it’s killing me.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “My wolf doesn’t like having the pack split up.”

“Is that the only reason?” she asked as she pulled back from the hug.

Derek didn’t answer. Instead he just looked over her shoulder towards the house.

“You’re so blind,” Laura sighed harshly. “Stiles wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek growled. “Stiles and I are just pack brothers.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said sadly. “You might even convince yourself someday.”

He pushed past her, bumping her shoulder in the process. He stomped down the hall to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He enjoyed the rush of cold air for a moment before looking for something to eat. He settled on the milk instead.

“Get a glass,” Laura ordered as she entered the kitchen behind him.

He unscrewed the top and took a sip straight from the jug, just to spite her.

She scowled but didn’t say anything.

“So glad we’re all getting along,” Peter chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He was putting his phone away in his pocket, as he walked into the kitchen. “After all, it’s not as if we have an outside threat to worry about at the moment.”

Both Laura and he cringed in embarrassment. There were hunters, not even a mile away; threatening their safety and here they were bickering like children.

“I know things are difficult right now but we can’t turn on each other,” Peter said. “Turning on each other only helps those who are trying to hurt us.”

“Sorry Peter,” he and Laura said in unison.

“Did you get a call back from one of the other packs you talked to?” Laura asked trying to change the subject.

“No, that was an entirely different conversation I just had,” Peter said looking right at Derek. “It appears that Stiles decided to come home for a surprise visit. He’s at his father’s house right now.”

Derek gripped the counter next to him, as the ground had just been ripped out from underneath him. Peter kept talking but Derek couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in his head. Only one thought repeated over and over in his mind.

_Stiles is home._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopy you liked it. I felt like it could have been better in some places but I really wanted to post an update, since it had been too long since the last chapter. The next chapter will be back to Stiles' POV. I find the Stiles chapter are a lot easier for me to write.
> 
> Comments and critiques are always welcome and highly encouraged :)


	4. Chapter 4 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to get this chapter out just in time for my birthday. This chapter and the next chapter were originally one chapter but it just got too long and I wanted to post an update soon so I split it into two. Then next chapter will also be in Stiles POV so I apologize to anyone who wants more Derek POV.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys like it.

 

The drive back home seemed to take forever. It was a seven hour drive—six at the speeds Stiles was driving on the back roads—but Stiles felt like he’d been driving for years, by the time he saw the first sign for Beacon Hills.

Not that it was a bad drive. Thanks to Derek’s efforts, his jeep ran better than ever before. The engine was probably in better condition now, than when it first came off the assembly line. And, since he drove through the night, there was barely any traffic. No, it was the anticipation that had made it seem like it took forever. But it was worth it just to be home. Just seeing some of the familiar landmarks that he’d grown up with made him giddy. He felt like a kid being taken to Disney Land for the first time.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, as he crossed the town line. It was early on a Saturday morning and most places were still closed for the night. He drove through town slowly, not because he was afraid of getting pulled over, but just to enjoy the familiar sight of home. Soon, he was driving through the center of town. He thought about going straight to the Hale house to check in with the pack, but he really wanted to see his dad first. When he reached Main Street, he had a choice of turning right to his house or left to the Sheriff’s Station. He chose left.

He’d been memorizing his dad’s work schedule since he was twelve and continued to do so in college so that he would always know the best time to call. If he remembered correctly, his dad’s night shift should have ended an hour ago. But he knew his dad. The Sheriff always gave himself the worst schedule, full of late night and super early morning shifts so that those of his deputies with families would be able to be home at reasonable hours to spend time with their spouses and kids. And his dad was a workaholic. Knowing that, it was a pretty safe bet that his dad would be at the station rather than at home in bed.

Sure enough, when he pulled into the Station, his dad’s cruiser was parked right out front. Stiles parked next to it and killed the engine. Hopping out of his jeep, he made his way up the front steps. He opened the front door and let the blast of familiar scents wash over him. First and foremost there was the scent of the cheap coffee that everyone at the station drank by the gallon. Then there were other scents like printer ink from the dinosaur of a printer that was constantly jamming or the cracked plastic chairs in the waiting area. There were the overlapping scents of all the deputies and the dispatcher, his dad’s scent mixed in as well. Underneath it all, there was the faint scent of gun oil and gunpowder. Not that anyone at the station had had to fire their gun in the line of duty for years now. Mostly, it was residue from practice at the gun range.

When he got to the front desk, he was greeted by Cynthia, the receptionist/dispatcher that Stiles had known his entire life. A gracefully aging woman with silver hair, blue eyes, and a kind smile, she’d been like an aunt to him growing up. He still remembered the casseroles she made for his dad and him every week for a year after his mom died, back before he’d learned how to cook. He and his dad probably would have starved without her. She was also his greatest ally in his fight to keep his dad on his diet. She must have gotten there a few moments before him, because she was still setting up for her shift. That didn’t prevent her from stopping what she was doing to come around the counter and wrap him in a big hug.

“Cynthia, my communications goddess, your look lovelier than ever,” Stiles said as he hugged her back, careful not to crush her.

“Stiles,” she laughed, stepping back. “When did you get home?”

“Just now,” Stiles replied. “Drove all night and came straight here.”

“Your father didn’t tell me you were coming home for a visit,” She said, slightly offended at not having been informed.

“Surprise visit,” Stiles said, and then added sheepishly, “I was homesick.”

If it had been anyone other than Cynthia, he would have never said that last part. But Cynthia had known him all his life and had been good friends with his mother. To her credit, she just smiled and pulled Stiles into another hug. Then she stepped back and looked him over.

“Well, college life certainly agrees with you,” she said, reaching up to brush back his hair. “You look so handsome, just like your father.”

Stiles couldn’t help the slight blush that comment caused. He took after his mother when it came to his looks and was more than a little pleased whenever anyone pointed out similarities to his father.

“I still can’t believe how big you’ve gotten,” Cynthia continued cheerfully. “I remember when you knee high. I can still picture you running around this station with your father’s badge and a magnifying glass, interrogating the deputies, and investigating the case of the missing pencils from the supply closet.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “I did find out who was taking more than their fair share of office supplies.”

“Yes, you did,” she said mirthfully. “So, how long will you be in town?”

“Just for the weekend,” Stiles answered. “Gotta get back to class on Wednesday.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Don’t want to let your grades drop. You know, we were all so proud when we heard you’d gotten into Berkeley. I don’t think I’ve seen your father smile so much, since the day you were born.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said sadly, feeling guilty about how much he didn’t like it at Berkeley. He quickly changed the subject. “So, is my dad around? I saw his cruiser outside?”

“Yes, your father’s still here,” she said in an annoyed voice, glancing back toward the Sheriff’s office. “That man should have gone home hours ago. You go drag him out of that office and get some food in him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles said with a mock salute.

“And make sure you come see me again before you head back to college,” she said.

“Of course,” Stiles replied. “How else am I supposed to catch up on all the juicy gossip I’ve missed since I’ve been gone?”

Cynthia just chuckled and gave him a gentle push down the hall towards his dad’s office.

Walking down the hall, he focused his hearing on his dad’s office. It wasn’t hard to hear his father’s comforting heartbeat, considering the door was wide open. But he could also hear that his dad wasn’t alone. One of his deputies—Gonzalez, judging from the heavy cologne—was speaking with him about the next quarter’s upcoming budget review, the kind of tedious paperwork stuff that his dad hated. Definitely not something he would want to be going over at the end of, what was doubtlessly, a long night shift.

“So, when are you guys putting in the request for a cappuccino machine, because one day that cheap coffee is seriously gonna eat a hole through your stomachs,” he announced as he strode into his dad’s office with a flourish.

He’d expected his dad to be surprised—that was kind of the point of a surprise visit—but he wasn’t prepared for the wave of sheer panic that clouded his dad’s scent. The look of shocked horror on his dad’s face lasted only a second, before he put on a mask of calm happiness. Luckily, his own reaction to his dad’s fear was covered by Gonzalez’ enthusiastic greeting. Taking his cues from his dad, he acted like nothing was wrong and put on a happy-go-lucky expression.

“We’ll talk at later,” his dad whispered in his ear, when he pulled him into a hug. “Act normal until we get home.”

“What are you doing home, son?” His dad said in a louder, happier sounding voice. “I’m pretty sure your winter break doesn’t start for at least another month.”

“Oh, I know you’ve just been falling apart without me here, so I thought I’d just come back and visit the best dad on the West Coast,” Stiles said jokingly but without his usual witty flare.

“Mm-hmm, so you’re not here to raid my fridge and watch my cable?” his dad said in a mock Sheriff voice.

“Please, you know I can watch all the best shows on my laptop now.”

“I notice you didn’t deny the part about raiding my fridge.”

They joked back and forth with each other for a few minutes and answered some of Gonzalez’ questions about college. They sounded almost normal and he hoped Gonzalez would attribute anything funny in their voices to a lack of sleep. His dad stank of fear throughout the entire conversation and Stiles desperately wanted to know what was going on but he knew better than to bring it up before Gonzalez left.

“We’ll finish going over the budget tomorrow,” his dad said to Gonzalez. “I could use some time to sleep and catch up with my son.”

“Of course, Sheriff. See you on Sunday,” Gonzalez said.

When Gonzalez was out of hearing range, Stiles opened his mouth to ask what was going on but was quickly silenced by a stern look from his dad. He impatiently waited for his dad to put away all his paperwork and lock up his office, acting like everything was normal. He was fidgeting like he hadn’t since before he got the bite. He tried to busy himself by reading the notices on the Station’s announcement board. There was a missing bike flyer, danger awareness seminar schedules, and announcements from the forestry department, just the usual stuff.

When his dad finished locking up, they walked out to the front desk together. Cynthia wished them a goodnight/good morning and told Stiles to make his dad a big breakfast. Stiles said something about egg-white omelets with spinach and his dad grumbled about bacon, but it was just for show. They were silent all the way to their cars. He wanted to ride with his dad, so they could talk about what the heck was wrong, but it would have been suspicious if he left his jeep.

Once they were on the road, he wanted to floor it all the way back home—after all, who was going to pull over the Sheriff and his son—but he was supposed to be acting normal. So, he ended up following his dad’s cruiser home, going five miles below the speed limit. The familiar streets that were so comforting just a little while ago, now felt constricting.

While his car might have been moving at a snail’s pace, his mind was in overdrive. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild, wondering what was going on or who was in trouble.

_Is anyone hurt?_

_They can’t be hurt! They’re WEREWOLVES for cryin’ out loud! They heal._

_What if someone found out our secret?_

_Maybe some idiot birdwatcher accidentally captured a video of one of the pack transforming and is threatening to put it on the internet!_

Increasingly terrifying scenarios raced through his mind, as his heart started pounding in his chest and his breathing turned in to sharp gasps.

 _I’m having a panic attack._ He realized.

After his mom died, he’d had panic attacks, almost every other night, for months. He’d gone to see the school counselor, and even a therapist, but it was only time and his dad’s support that had put an end to them. He hadn’t had one in years but he still recognized the warning signs of one about to happen. The therapist might not have helped with everything but one thing he had shown him was a trick to manage a panic attack and occasionally stop one before it got too bad.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He did that a few more times. Then he turned on his radio to a happy, up-beat song.

 _Stop!_ He thought to himself. _Stop thinking negative thoughts. They aren’t helping you they’re just making you even more worried._

_Just concentrate of driving. You can’t do anything until you get home and you’ll never reach home if you crash._

_You’ll get home safely and then dad will explain everything._

His heartbeat slowed a little and it was a little easier to breath. Driving actually helped a lot. Focusing on the road and shifting gears kept his mind from drifting to bad thoughts. Soon he was pulling up to his house. He threw his car into park and jumped out the door. His dad, on the other hand, took his sweet time getting out of his car and walking up to the front door. The Sheriff moved like he was eighty and had a broken hip. At least, it felt that way to Stiles. Stiles knew his dad was trying to act like he was just tired after a late night shift, but would it kill him to walk a little faster.

When they _finally_ got inside the house, the tired old Sheriff routine dropped in the blink of an eye. Before Stiles could even ask his first question, his dad was putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, looking his straight in the eye, and drilling him for information.

“Did you hear or smell anyone around the house when you came in?” his father asked.

“What—no, I mean I didn’t check, but what—”

“Can you tell if anyone is near the house now?”

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“Stiles, just check,” his dad ordered and let go of him.

Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and focused on his hearing, listening to all the sound around his house. It was still early, so not many people were awake. Old Mrs. Saunders next door was still asleep but her two cats were prowling around outside. On the other side of the house, Mr. Bernardino was singing in the shower. Across the street, Mr. Adler was hitting snooze on his obnoxious alarm clock, while his wife was downstairs making coffee. Other than those few everyone else in his hearing range was asleep. The street outside was empty.

“No, there’s no one outside,” Stiles said and his dad visibly relaxed.

“Good,” his dad sighed. “I take it that Peter didn’t call you tell you to come back home.”

“No, he didn’t?”

He’d been so happy about the idea of going home that it never even occurred to him to call first and let them know he was coming. He thought they’d be happy to see him.

“Is everyone okay? Is—”

“Everyone’s fine for the moment,” his dad cut him off.

Stiles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and felt the dread gripping his heart ease a little.

“What the heck is going on?” Stiles nearly shouted.

His dad gave him weary look.

“There are hunters in town.”

His dad might as well have hit him with a sledge hammer.

“Hunters! What—when—how!”

“Three of them,” his dad answered. “They got into town a few days ago.”

“Days!” Stiles said furiously. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I should have been told about hunters being in town, immediately. I’m pretty sure that’s, like, at least number five in the werewolf hand book.”

“Because it was safer for you at Berkeley,” his father explained. “There was nothing you could do and no point in worrying you when nothing has happened yet.”

_Derek must be going crazy._

There were hunter—psychotic, murderous hunters, like the ones that killed Derek’s parents—invading his territory, his home. Just the thought made his wolf snarl in rage.

_How dare they come back here! After what they did!_

Before he even realized what he was doing, he had turned back toward the door. His dad grabbed his arm to stop him.

“You’re not going anywhere until we call Peter,” his dad stated.

“But—”

“No buts,” his dad said. “I’m not letting you run off half-cocked against these—”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing! I should be scoping out their hideout or sabotaging their cars or something.”

“No,” his dad said exasperated. “We’re going to talk to Peter, your Alpha.”

“Or I could just go over to the Hale house and we could start preparing for—”

“They’re watching the Hale house.”

“What!”

“The hunters are watching the Hale house,” his dad said slowly. “The hunters have been openly following Peter, Laura, and Derek, wherever they go. So, you don’t really need to watch their hideout, because they aren’t hiding.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles said, confusion momentarily halting his anger.

“Peter and I can’t figure it out either,” his dad said. “The best we can figure is that they’re trying to provoke the pack into attacking first, so they’ll have an excuse to retaliate. So, you going and trying to chase them off would be playing right into their hands.”

“But, that still doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles said. “Three hunters aren’t enough to take down the pack unless they had the element of surprise. What are they, martyrs sacrificing themselves so that other hunters will avenge their deaths?”

“They might just be,” his dad wearily. “That’s why Peter’s being cautious and waiting for them to make the first move. And, that’s also why you’re not leaving this house until Peter and I say so.”

“So, the hunters will be able to trap me in the house and burn it down around me,” Stiles complained.

“That’s not going to happen,” his dad thundered. “The hunters don’t know you’re a werewolf. As far as we can tell, the hunters have left the house and the station alone and you would have told us if you smelled anyone with wolfsbane at Berkeley. Now, let’s call Peter and we can both get an update on what’s going on.”

A few minutes later, they were both seated at the dining room table, Stiles’ cell phone resting on the table between them. The phone was on speaker, so that both of them could hear it ringing. Then it picked up and Peter’s voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Stiles,” Peter said in a cheery voice. “I didn’t expect a call this early. Shouldn’t you be sleeping in till noon like a good little college student.”

“I’m home,” Stiles stated simply, letting some of his anger show through in his voice.

“He arrived this morning,” his dad explained tiredly. “I told him a little but I thought the rest should come from you.”

There was a short pause, before Peter answered.

“Well this complicates things,” Peter said casually.

“How could you not tell me there were hunters in town,” Stiles yelled.

“Because you didn’t need to know,” Peter replied.

Stiles was stunned speechless for a few seconds, before he found his voice again.

“What do you mean I didn’t need to know?” Stiles asked. “I think on a scale of one-to-ten of the things I would need to know, hunters being in town would be a solid one thousand.”

“Really,” Peter said. “And just how would you knowing about the hunters have helped anything?”

“I—I could have—I could do something,” Stiles stuttered, pathetically.

He had no idea what he could do but he wanted to do something.

“I made a judgment call,” Peter continued. “I wanted you to stay in Berkeley, so that the hunters wouldn’t know about you and you could be our element of surprise, if we needed it. I also decided to keep you ignorant; so that you wouldn’t spend endless hours torturing yourself about what _could_ happen. That way, when we actually did bring you into things, we could tell you more than to just wait and see.”

Stiles hated that he couldn’t argue with that logic.

“You told my dad before you told me,” Stiles whined, hating that he sounded like a little kid.

“I informed your father because he was already here,” Peter stated, “and because, when the hunters first arrived, we didn’t know if they were aware that you were a member of our pack, so there was a chance that they could come after him as well.”

“Not to mention the fact that I’m a trained police officer, with a gun,” his dad chimed in.

“That too,” Peter added.

Stiles hated it when the two of them ganged up on him.

“Dad mentioned that they were following you,” Stiles changed the subject.

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “There are three of them. You can’t miss them. They’re positively drenched in the smell of wolfsbane. And they’re young. Around your age.”

Stiles didn’t miss the subtle reminder of his age.

“They’ve been shadowing us whenever we leave the house, though they have yet to actually trespass onto our property.”

“Can’t you just arrest them for suspicious behavior or stalking?” Stiles asked his dad.

“Contrary to what movies and television tell you, that’s not how the police work,” his dad answered. “They haven’t technically done anything yet, so I can’t do anything.”

“Have you been doing anything?” Stiles asked, addressing Peter.

“I’ve made a few calls to some acquaintances,” Peter replied. “I’m waiting to hear back from them.”

“That’s it!”

“That’s all we can do for the moment,” Peter said. “We can’t do anything to them and risk more hunters coming to town.”

“Please, tell me you’ve at least been plotting some secret master plan that’s going to kick their asses.”

“Laura and I have been discussing some possibilities,” Peter said noncommittally.

_Peter missed his calling in life. He should have been a politician. Frank Underwood’s got nothing on Peter Hale._

“That’s it?” Stiles asked, unbelievingly.

“For now,” Peter said.

“There must be something else we could be doing,” Stiles said.

“This is precisely why I didn’t tell you sooner,” Peter continued. “I let you focus on your school work and friends, so you wouldn’t go out of your mind with worry or worse attempt some idiotic heroics. You need to be patient.”

“Fine,” Stiles said, petulantly. “At least let me sneak over to the Hale house to help you brainstorm ideas.”

“Absolutely not,” his father said. “You’re staying here, until we figure this out.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” Stiles whined. “I’m eighteen. You can’t just ground me.”

“I can shoot you in the leg,” his dad countered. “You’ll heal and it’ll slow you down enough for me to chain you to the radiator.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s child abuse,” Stiles said.

“And here I though you weren’t a child anymore,” his dad shot back.

“Even if I’m not a child, shooting your son is still illegal. And someone would hear the shots.”

“Then I’d answer the door, tell them someone broke in, and that I ran them off,” his dad said with complete seriousness. “I’m the Sheriff, no one would question it.”

“That…that is a gross abuse of power,” Stiles said weakly.

“If it means keeping you safe, then I’m okay with it,” his dad said.

“Much as I enjoy listening to this touching father-son moment,” Peter’s voice cut in, “I really must get back to plotting my master plan to kick the hunters’ asses.”

“And I can help with that,” Stiles begged. “You said the hunters don’t know me, so I’m in the perfect position to spy on them, or maybe even infiltrate their ranks!”

“You can help by staying safe,” Peter said. “I can’t properly focus on the hunters if I’m constantly worried about your safety. **You will stay in your father’s house until he or I tell you differently**.”

The Alpha order in the last sentence made him shiver, as a whine escaped his lips. His father gave him a sympathetic look, but did say anything.

“I’m not doing this to hurt you, Stiles,” Peter said soothingly. “It’s an Alpha’s job to protect their pack. Right now, the best way to do that is to keep you as far away from the hunters as possible.”

Stiles didn’t say anything. Instead, he just glared at his cell phone on the table, willing Peter to feel his anger and frustration.

“I’ll call back every hour with an update,” Peter said. “In the meantime you both might want to try and get some sleep. If the situation does change, you’ll want to be well rested to deal with it.”

“Thank you, Peter,” his dad said sincerely, though Stiles thought that he was thanking Peter more for Alpha-ordering him to stay in the house than for the promise of hourly updates.

Stiles still refused to say anything.

“It’s just until we have a better understanding of what the hunter’s plans are,” Peter said apologetically.

“And you’ll call back in one hour?” Stiles asked.

“To the second,” Peter replied. “Now, go get some food and some sleep.”

“Talk to you in an hour,” Stiles said and hung up the phone.

His dad gave him a measuring look, before he spoke again.

“I know it’s tough,” his dad said. “But, we’re not doing this out of spite. This is to protect everyone. We don’t know what the hunters are planning and we can’t make a move until they do.”

“You still could have told me about it sooner,” Stiles huffed.

“So you could spend the extra few days twiddling your thumbs and agonizing over what’s going to happen, like the rest of us have been doing,” his dad replied.

Stiles didn’t reply to that. Instead, he and his dad continued to sit there in silence for a few minutes, until Stiles finally gave in.

“I guess I still owe you breakfast,” Stiles grumbled as he stood from his chair and started for the kitchen.

“You’re going to punish me with healthy food, aren’t you,” his dad said.

“Healthy food isn’t a punishment,” Stiles called back.

“Tell that to my stomach,” his dad groaned and Stiles grinned, just a little.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I've been wanting to write Sheriff Stilinski into my story for a while and I finally managed it. He's one of my favorite characters in the series and I think he's totally awesome in his own way. And I think I'm getting better at writing sassy Peter. It's a little difficult because I have to balance his sassiness with his Alpha authority but I think I pulled it off.
> 
> Comments and critiques are always welcome and encouraged.


	5. Chapter 5 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I lost my flash-drive that had almost all my work and outlines on it. Luckily, I had a backup but not for this chapter. I had to completely rewrite it, but I'm actually kind of glad, since I added a few more things and I think it came out even better than ever.
> 
> This chapter is unBeta'd because I had promised that it would be out sooner and I wanted to post it right in time for the Teen Wolf Season 3 premier tonight. I think I would have died of anticipation if I hadn't been so worried about having to rewrite this. Hopefully you guys like it. I'm going to go finish watching the Teen Wolf Season 2 marathon now. Thankfully, I don't have work or classes on Monday this semester.

 

 

True to his word, Stiles made his dad a spinach and egg-white omelet, with no salt and whole wheat toast. He added the extra egg yolks to his own scrambled eggs and even sprinkled in some shredded cheese, just to rub it in some more. His dad chose not to comment on the injustice, and they ate their breakfast in silence. After they finished eating, they washed the dishes together.

When they were done, his dad decided he was going to take Peter’s advice and tried to get some sleep. He was exhausted enough that he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but Stiles heard him tossing and turning in his sleep. Much as he would love to crawl into bed and fall asleep in a warm cocoon of blankets, he couldn’t. His wolf was just too riled up to sleep. There was a threat to his pack in his territory and there was no way his wolf could sleep under those circumstances.

And he was stilled furious that no one had told him about the hunters being in town. He may have been off at college but he was still pack. He should have been told the second they knew that hunters were in town just on principle.

_I can’t believe they didn’t trust me!_

What made it even worse was that Stiles could understand and even agree with Peter’s reasoning for keeping him in the dark. They couldn’t do anything until they knew more about the hunters’ plans and just waiting around would drive him crazy. He’d only known about them for a less than an hour and he was already going out of his mind. If Peter had told him a few days ago, there would have been no way he’d have been able to concentrate on his school work.

_It just sucks having those he cared about in danger and not being able to do anything about it._

Making breakfast and eating with his dad had taken up most of the hour before Peter’s promised call. Exactly one hour from the time of his last call, Peter’s caller ID showed up on Stiles’ phone. He didn’t have anything new to report but he reassured Stiles again that everyone was fine, encouraged him to try and get some sleep, and promised to call again in exactly one hour. Instead of following Peter’s advice about sleeping, he slumped down on the couch and tried to distract himself with Saturday morning cartoons. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. He just couldn’t focus on the show for more than a few minutes, before his mind would start to drift back to all sorts of horrible thoughts of what the hunters might be up to.

He checked his phone every few minutes, as if looking at the clock more often would somehow speed up time. If anything, it seemed to make him feel like time was moving slower just to spite him. Finally Peter’s next call came only to disappoint Stiles further by having absolutely nothing new to report.

The next few hours fell into a bit of a pattern. Stiles would find some task or activity to try and keep himself occupied, he would then lose interest in about ten minutes or less, find another activity, lose interest again, keep repeating that until it was close to the time for Peter to call, and then place his phone on the kitchen table and stare at it until it rang.

He’d nearly had a heart attack when his phone rang twenty minutes before Peter’s call was expected. Instantly, his mind jumped to thoughts the hunters attacking the Hale house with guns and flamethrowers. His eyes were glowing and his claws and fangs were out when he answered the phone. It turned out to be one of his college friends inviting him to a day at the beach. Luckily, his extended fangs made his speech garbled enough so that his friend just thought he was startled and sleepy, when he explained that he was spending the weekend visiting his dad.

After that, time seemed to tick by at an even slower pace. He tried to find things to occupy himself but nothing held his attention for long. He felt like his ADHD was back and he really wished he’d kept some of his old Adderall, though it probably wouldn’t have worked on his werewolf metabolism.

 _But I might have gotten a placebo affect from it._ He mused, drifting, aimlessly, from one room to the next, trying to find something to occupy himself with.

Reading and watching TV were out of the question because it was too easy for his mind to drift off. Video games were also a no go. He died ten times in a row in Call of Duty on the first level before he finally gave up. Plus, all the shooting reminded him too much of the fact that he or a member of his pack might be on the receiving end of a bullet very soon.

He tried cleaning. He dusted behind the TV and the tops of the ceiling fan but grew restless before he got to the bookshelves. Then he tried sweeping and finished the front hall and the kitchen before he grew too frustrated with it.

Next, he tried exercising, to work off some of his excess jitteriness. He couldn’t go out for a run because he couldn’t leave the house and they didn’t have a weight set like at the Hale house, but he could do a few simpler actions. Before he left for college, Derek had been showing him some basic workout routines for increasing muscle mass. Unfortunately, he was never one of those kinds of people who could go to a gym for hours a day working out. He liked to be doing something while he exercised, like playing lacrosse or sparring with his pack.

So, the hours passed with him flitting form one activity to the next, waiting for Peter’s hourly check in. His dad woke up around 2pm, though it had been a fitful sleep. He came down the stairs just as Stiles had finished making a few tuna salad with low fat mayonnaise sandwiches on whole wheat bread. After they finished eating, Stiles started grilling his dad on information about the hunters’ description. He’d realized after his last conversation with Peter that he had no idea what the hunters actually looked like. Peter had told him that he couldn’t miss them, when they were drenched in the scent of wolfsbane, but he would rather be able to recognize them before they were in smelling range.

There were three of them in town, one for each of the Hales. The first one they had spotted was the one following Peter. He looked like he was the oldest and was, apparently, the leader. He was the shortest of the hunters but also the most muscled, but nowhere near as ripped as Derek. He had light blue eyes and sandy hair that was cut in an imitation of a military haircut. The next one was the one following Laura. He was the tallest, and also had light blue eyes but with curly auburn hair. He also had a bit of an acne problem. The last one was the one following Derek. He was the youngest of the hunters. He had spiky blond hair, brown eyes, and babyish features. They were maybe a year or two older than Stiles and none of them were particularly intimidating. Laura had said that they looked like art students.

After he’d gotten all the information he could out of his dad, he asked him for permission to go get his laundry out of his Jeep, because Peter’s Alpha order wouldn’t let him leave the house with his dad or Peter’s say so. When his dad asked if they didn’t have washing machines at Berkeley, Stiles told him all about his amazing scenting idea and ended explaining his whole scent problem. Rather than rolling his eyes at the strange habits of werewolves, his dad surprised him by coming up with an even better idea. His dad would mail him one of his pillow cases every month, so that Stiles could at least sleep surrounded by the scent of family.

Sometimes his dad amazed him with how incredible he was. Seriously, his dad was the best. You would have thought his dad had lived his entire like in a werewolf family with how well he understood it all. He could still remember when he first told his dad about werewolves. His dad’s first words after seeing him transform for the first time were, “I need a drink.” Then he promptly stood up, walked over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp. Then he’d poured another one and came back to the table.

Once his dad got over the initial shock, things went pretty smoothly. They broke down all the essential parts of being a werewolf to his dad—minus the part about going into heat. His dad had a ton of questions, even more than Stiles had had at first. The only time Stiles had gotten really nervous was when his dad started to question if the Hales hadn’t done anything to provoke the hunters who had burned down their house. Peter managed to convince him of their innocence, though his little Hannibal Lecter moment at the end, about venison tasting better than human, gave him pause.

In the end, his dad had hugged him tight and Stiles was pretty secure in the feeling that the slight trace of fear he still smelled on his dad was fear _for him_ and not _of him_. When his dad joined them on the following full moon, he knew everything was okay. His dad saw for himself that they weren’t rabid monsters out to eat people. On the ride home the next morning his dad smiled at him and said, “It figures, after I took the news about your being gay so well that you would have to find a way to one up yourself.”

_As if I went out and got bitten by a rogue werewolf just to throw him for a loop._

Now, here his dad was, talking about werewolves like other people talk about the weather. He probably would have gotten up and hugged his dad if his phone hadn’t started to ring on the table. Peter’s hourly call was right on time. Once again, there was nothing new to report. The Hales were spending the weekend at the house and the hunters were waiting down the road.

After the call ended, Stiles headed out to his Jeep and grabbed his laundry. He loaded up the washing machine and added some of his dad’s laundry in the mix as well. Then he headed back to the dining room to find his dad looking over some paperwork all spread out on the table. He knew it was tedious stuff for the department but it had to get done, so he tried to do something else while his dad worked. Unfortunately, his constant moving around was distracting enough.

“Stiles, sit down,” his dad said without even looking up from his papers. “You’re making me restless, just from watching you.”

“I can’t help it,” Stiles sighed and plopped down into the chair across from him. “I just feel like I should be doing something, ya’know.”

“I know, believe me, I know,” his dad replied.

“It’s just—I—there has to be something we could do, some way we could prepare…”

“Sometimes all you can do is wait.”

“What if we called their families,” Stiles started. “You know, let them know what their douchbag kids are up to.”

“Maybe, if we knew their names we might be able to,” his dad said. “But we don’t.”

“What do you mean we don’t even know their names?” Stiles said, feeling like an idiot that he hadn’t bothered to ask about that earlier when they were talking about what they looked like.

“I mean, I’ve had no reason to ask them,” his dad replied. “They haven’t done anything that would cause me to arrest them or even pull them over.”

“You could pull them over and say they were speeding,” Stiles shot back.

“And let them know that I’m close with the Hales,” his dad gave him that ‘you know better than that look’ he’d perfected as Sheriff. “Besides, unless Peter recognized their last name, we’d have no way of contacting the family.”

“You could run a background check on them,” Stiles said hopefully.

“No, I couldn’t,” his dad said firmly. “As running a background check on someone for personal reasons is against the law and I could lose my job if I did.”

“It’s not an entirely personal reason,” Stiles said weakly. “They are planning to kill us after all. It’s crime prevention.”

“Except we don’t have any proof that they mean any harm,” his dad sighed. “A jury’s not going to believe that smelling like wolfsbane is proof that they are planning murder.”

“But we know they’re the bad guys,” Stiles pouted. “We should be able to go after them before they kill someone.”

“Welcome to the world of being a cop,” his dad said glumly.

While his dad went back to his paperwork, Stiles fumed silently for a few moments, tapping his foot.

“How do they expect to beat us?” Stiles mumbled, while biting his lip.

“What’s that?” his dad asked.

“The hunters, what do they have that could take us down if it’s just the three of them?” he asked. “Do they even have any weapons?”

“None that I could see,” his dad replied. Stiles gave him a questioning glance. “I haven’t just been sitting on my ass here, son. I’ve been scoping out the hunters on my own. Subtly.”

“How subtly?”

“I arranged to swing by the store at the same time that Peter and Laura went shopping. I got a good look in the hunters’ cars when they went in after Peter and Laura,” his dad explained. “That’s how we figured out they’re driving rental cars.”

“Well, can we go to the rental car place and get the hunters’ names from their records?” Stiles asked excitedly.

“We would need a warrant for that and you only get a warrant if you have evidence or probable cause.”

“Fine, so maybe the third hunter has the weapons.”

“Looked in his car too, when I pretended to take my cruiser into Derek’s shop for an oil change,” his dad replied. “Though, if they were smart, they’d keep the sniper rifles and crossbows in the trunk out in public.”

“But that’s still not enough!” Stiles complained.

“You guys heal quickly but you’re not bullet proof, Stiles,” his dad lectured. “Guns and arrows can still hurt you.”

“Yeah but good luck getting us to stand still long enough to hit us,” Stiles shot back. “We know who they are, so if they even reach for a weapon, we could duck for cover or even take it from them. We’re pretty fast too, remember.”

His dad thought about that for a moment and Stiles could almost see him physically slip into Sheriff Mode.

“What about the wolfsbane?” his dad asked. “Peter said they reek of the stuff. Wouldn’t that affect you?”

“Yes, but not that much,” Stiles explained. “If the smell is really that strong, then it might cause us to wolf-out a little bit—you know, all glowy eyes and maybe claws—but it wouldn’t kill us. It might even make us a little queasy but wouldn’t cause permanent damage. They’d have to get it into our bloodstream somehow for that.”

“What about those wolfsbane bullets Peter told me about? Or a wolfsbane coated knife.”

“Again, good luck hitting us with a bullet. We could run away or rush them before they even had the gun full out, let alone aimed at one of us. As for the knife, we could disarm them. And even if we did get hit or stabbed, all we would have to do is take some of their wolfsbane, burn it, and put it in the wound to neutralize the poison.”

“How does that work?” his dad asked.

“I’m not too certain,” Stiles admitted. “Peter said it had something to do with sympathetic properties or something like that.”

“If that works, then why is Peter still searching for a wolfsbane antidote?” his dad asked.

“Because that only works if you know exactly what kind of wolfsbane was used and you can get some more,” he explained. “There are a bunch of different types of wolfsbane and it’s not like the hunters would just tell you what kind they used. If they’re really smart, then they’d keep a few different kinds on them, so even if you catch them you’d still have to figure out which one to use.”

“Couldn’t you just burn them all?”

“No,” Stiles shook his head, “Because if you did you might end up making it worse. That’s why Peter’s been looking for another way. A kind of cure-all.”

His dad just hmmed and sat back in his chair thinking. Stiles started drumming his fingers on the table.

“How would you attack the hunters?” his dad asked.

Stiles flailed a bit because his dad’s question was so out of left field that it startled him.

“I wouldn’t,” Stiles protested. “I—”

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” his dad cut him off. “I mean, all this time, we’ve been trying to figure out how they would come after you. What if they based their strategy on how you would go after them?”

“But we wouldn’t,” Stiles said vehemently. “They’re the ones that are invading our territory, and provoking us.”

“Exactly,” his dad said. “They’re provoking you, trying to get you to attack. So, how would you attack?”

“But they couldn’t guarantee that we’d attack them, cause we won’t,” Stiles countered.

“Stiles, when I first told you there were hunters in town you almost ran out the door to go and chase them off,” his dad said. “If Peter hadn’t ordered you to stay in the house, you’d probably be out there following them right now. And with the tension as high as it is right now someone is going to snap.”

“That’s not true.”

“Son, you’ve only known about them for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already close to a breaking point,” his dad reasoned. “Now, hunters are supposed to study werewolves and how to kill them all their lives. If I can figure out that just being here would drive you into a frenzy, then hunters would definitely know that as well.”

“That…that is a really good assumption,” Stiles admitted in defeat.

“So let’s say, hypothetically, the pack snaps, under all this pressure, how would they take out the hunters?”

Stiles bit his lip and thought for a moment. He knew how they would do it, but he was a little hesitant to tell his dad. For all that his dad accepted that he was a werewolf, hearing about the more animal side of him might change how his dad thought about him.

_I don’t want him to be afraid of me again like he was when he first saw me transform._

“Son,” his dad started gently. “I’ve done a little of my own research on how wolves hunt and I know that the pack has a hand in controlling the deer population in the Preserve. I also know that you’re my son and that you’re not a killer, so it’s alright to tell me how you and the pack go after Bambi on full moons.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his gut. It was super corny but hearing his dad say that really did take a weight off his chest. Taking a deep calming breath, he licked his lips and started telling his dad how the pack hunts.

“We would want them in the woods,” he started. “Away from the town so no one else would see us shift. It’s also because we know the Preserve better than anyone, home court advantage, ya’know.”

His dad nodded encouragingly.

“We’d get them running, chase them. There are two reason for that. First, so that it would be harder for them to fire at us. It’s hard to aim and run at the same time. Plus, being chased would make them panic and have them firing wild. Second, because it would tire them out. And it’s not like they could outrun us.”

“Makes sense,” his dad agreed.

“We would herd them further into the woods, away from civilization and witnesses. Also the cell reception is really spotty out there so they wouldn’t be able to call for help either. We would surround them as they ran, but we’d make sure we were far enough away and covered by enough trees and bushes so that they couldn’t hit us. Peter would be behind them urging them forward, occasionally coming closer to nip a their heels. Derek and Laura would be on either side to keep them going in the direction we wanted.”

“What about you?” his dad asked.

“I’m the fastest, so I would either be in front of them, trying to get them to chase after me,” he began, but then saw his dad’s worried face. “Or, more likely, Peter would have me waiting somewhere further in the woods so I could cut them off, when they reached me.”

“So, once you have them tired out enough you, what, go for the throat?” his dad theorized.

“No,” Stiles corrected. “The throat is last and sometimes not even at all. It’s a mercy blow to end the animal’s suffering. With larger prey, we would keep them running and then maybe Derek or Laura would move in on Peter’s command and take a swipe at their sides or upper thigh. But only on Peter’s command.”

Stiles remembered his first hunt with the pack, when his wolf had gotten so excited and rushed forward before Peter gave the signal. He’d gotten a deer hoof in the face and chest for his effort and their prey had escaped, while the pack stopped to check if he was okay.

“You work as a unit under the Alpha’s direction,” his dad nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, so we slash at their meaty parts, like the hind legs or the rump, to make it even more difficult for them to maneuver. It would slow them down even more and the blood loss would make them weaker. A lot of times, when we hunt deer, the blood loss alone would kill them.”

“I see,” his dad said neutrally. When Stiles hesitated on the next part, his dad gave him an encouraging nod.

“Soon, one of them would fall behind,” Stiles continued. “There’s always a weaker member that falls behind. We would circle around him, trying to get him to use up all his ammo. We’d pretend to move in close to get him to fire. Once we are sure that he’d out of ammo, then we’d go for the throat.”

“Okay, I can see how that would work on a deer or other animal,” his dad said. “But people aren’t animals. What if this friends decided to hang back to help him, or carry him along?"

“If they tried to carry him then it would slow them down even more and make it even harder to defend themselves, since they would have to run, fire, and carry a person all at the same time,” Stiles explained. “They’d be even easier to get. If they decided to stop and make a stand, then we’d use the same tactic as before, get them to use up their ammo and then go in for the kill.”

“What if they’re smart and conserve their ammo until you’re right in front of them?” his dad asked.

“Then we’d starve them out. We can go for days without food or water or, more likely, one of us could leave for supplies. Either way, we’d have them stranded out in the woods and it would just be a matter of time.”

His dad was silent for a little while after Stiles had finished. He could practically see his dad running through different scenarios in his mind.

“How do you track them in the woods?” his dad finally asked. “I know you practically have night vision but is it more than that?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. “We use our sense of smell a lot. In fact, I’d say we use smell more than anything else on a hunt.”

“Could they hide their scent?” his dad asked. “You know, like deer hunters do.”

“That commercial scent eliminator stuff might work on deer and grizzlies but not on werewolves,” Stiles replied. “Even if they did, we could still track the sound of their heartbeats, especially if their heart rate is up from fear and running.”

“Couldn’t you mistake them for another animal?”

“No,” Stiles said. “Humans have very distinct heartbeats. I could pick out the sound of your heartbeat from the middle of a crowd, blindfolded and with nose plugs.”

“Good to know,” his dad smirked.

His dad was quiet again, as he processed this new information.

“What about a flashbang grenade?” his dad asked. “Like the kind that SWAT teams use to disorient people in a raid. Could one of those throw off your senses?”

Stiles had to think about that for a second. “Yeah, I suppose one of those would mess us up for a little bit. But we would, like, recover pretty fast, a lot faster than a human would. And we’d be pretty wary after that. Not that we wouldn’t already be on our guard around hunters.”

“But confusing your senses would be the best way to go after you,” his dad said. “Especially your sense of smell.”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. “Smell is really important for us.”

“What if the hunters lured you guys into a building filled with really strong smells?” his dad asked. “Would that put you at a disadvantage?.”

“Theoretically, yes,” Stiles said, hesitantly. “But, why would we follow people we know are trying to kill us, into a strange building?”

“True,” his dad conceded. “And it’s not like they could drop smoke bombs all over the Preserve.”

“Yea—,” Stiles started and then froze; a chill crept up his spine. His mind flashed back to the notices on the bulletin board he’d read just that morning in his dad’s office.

“Son,” his dad said cautiously. “You alright?”

“They wouldn’t have to fill the Preserve with smoke bombs,” Stiles stated in horror. “The Forestry Department will do it for them.”

“What are you talking about, son?” his dad asked in confusion.

“Prescribed Burning,” was all Stiles had to say. The look of shocked, panic on his dad’s face let him know that he’d made the same realization as Stiles.

Every year, when the weather started getting cold out but before it started to snow, the Forestry Department instituted a program of Prescribed Burning, where they would set fire to strategic parts of the forest. The cold weather would prevent the fires from getting too out of hand and burning some of the underbrush now would prevent massive forest fires from breaking out during the hot, dry months in summer.

During this time, the entire Preserve and half the town would reek of smoke, completely blocking out most other smells. It was bad enough for a human but for a werewolf it was almost unbearable. Stiles had almost gone crazy the first time it happened after he’d been turned. His dad Had actually had to keep him home from school he had such a bad reaction to it. Not to mention the horrible affect it had on the Hales. Smell is one of the strongest memory triggers and for the Hales the smell of smoke was forever linked to the death of Derek and Laura’s parents. It would cripple their sense of smell and throw them off emotionally.

Not to mention the noise the burning stirred up. Every animal in the Preserve would be riled up, in an attempt to escape from the flames. Humans only heard a fraction of it. To a werewolf it was like someone blasting Death Metal right in his or her ears. And the smoke would make their eyes water up, blurring their sight.

_It would leave us even more defenseless than a human._

“When does it start?” his dad asked, and Stiles could see him trying to recall the details of the stupid flyer that had probably been hanging up in his office for weeks.

“Monday morning,” Stiles said grimly.

They had a little over twenty-four hours.

“Call Peter,” his dad ordered.

Stiles was already pulling out his phone.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. I've always loved how Papa Stilinski would talk about his cases and detective work with Stiles in the series and I was so glad I was able to write in something like that into my story. Papa Stilinski is seriously one of my favorite characters on the show.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked this chapter or even a critique if there was something you didn't like. I got pretty disappointed at how the comments have seemed to taper off with the more I add to this story. Only a few faithful readers leave comments anymore and it kind of bums me out. It makes me think that people aren't interested in the story anymore. So please comment.
> 
> Also I know it's going slow so far, but I promise there will be smut. I'm thinking within the next two chapters since Derek needs to be over his heat before the Hunters strike.


	6. Chapter 6 Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize right up front because I was having major writer's block issues with this chapter and Derek's POV is not the easiest for me to write. The last chapter came out so geat that I guess the universe is trying to even it out by taking away my inspiration for this one.
> 
> Also, even though I said last chapter that there would be smut within the next two chapter, I might have to push it back a little. I told you guys last time about how I lost by flashdrive but that I had backups of my story outline. It turns out my backup didn't have my updated story outline, so that's why I'm a little out of whack with my story at the moment. Hopefully, the next chapter will put everything right.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter anyways.

Derek was in hell.

There was no other description for the feeling of utter helplessness he was consumed with.

Hunters had invaded his home and he wasn’t allowed to so much as look at them the wrong way. His pack members, who should be able to count on him to defend them, were struggling to help him keep control of himself. To top it all off he was in heat. He was horny and irritable and his blood felt like it was on fire. He hadn’t felt this bad since his first heat, when he was fourteen.

The one thing that had been keeping him sane was the thought that Stiles was safe, miles away at Berkeley. Now, thanks to that stupid phone call this morning, even that comforting thought was taken from him.

At first, he had wanted Peter to order Stiles to go back to Berkeley. When he calmed down and actually thought for a moment, he knew that would never happen. Not now that Stiles knew about the hunters. Peter never really used his Alpha influence over his pack that much, so it was probably surprise that made Stiles follow the order to stay in his house more than anything. If Stiles put his mind to it, he could fight against it and coming running back to Beacon Hills. After all, Stiles had been able to resist the murderous influences of the Alpha who gave him the bite.

 _It couldn’t possibly get any worse._ He thought, and then instantly regretted it. He wasn’t normally a superstitious person but in a shitty situation like this, tempting fate like that was just asking for trouble.

_If only they hadn’t come during my stupid freaking HEAT!_

He punctuated the end of that thought by slamming his fist into the punching bag again. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up bust the punching bag open, spilling sand everywhere. He’d already bent a few other pieces of equipment; he couldn't risk breaking the punching bag too. If he did, then he’d have nothing to distract himself with. His wolf was howling to be let out, so he could either kill the hunters with his bare hands or run to Stiles’ house and claim him. At this point, Derek didn’t think even the presence of the Sheriff would be able to dissuade him from possessing Stiles.

_The Sheriff._

Even after this long, he still felt uncomfortable calling him John. Peter and Laura had no problem using his real name, but there was always this part of him that needed to show the Sheriff respect. That needed the man’s approval.

He punched the bag again with less force but it was still too much. He had to get himself under control or he was going to lose it. It might as well have been the full moon for how worked up his wolf was and he couldn’t afford to be out of control right now.

_It’s just like that time—No! You’re not going to think about that. Not now._

Giving up on the punching bag, he went over to the bench press and started lifting weights.

He’d been in the home gym pretty much since he first found out that Stiles was back in town. He didn’t dare go on another run and chance missing one of Peter’s hourly check-in with Stiles. Just hearing Stiles’ voice helped calm him down. Even if Stiles sounded just as frustrated as he was about having to twiddle his thumbs, while there were hunters in town. But for now he was following Peter’s order about staying the house.

_Thank God for small miracles._

The first few times he’d created some excuse for him to be out in the living room when Peter made the call. He pretended he was getting a drink of water or that he was on his way to the bathroom. Peter and Laura probably knew exactly what he was up to but they didn’t say anything about it.  After a while, he gave up the pretense and just came out to listen in on the calls. Every call ended with Peter telling Stiles to try and get some sleep, though Derek thought that comment might actually be directed at him.

_Not a chance._

Derek couldn’t have slept even if he'd wanted too. He had barely slept for the past four days since the hunters arrived in town. He was convinced that the second he even closed his eyes, the hunters would strike.

Instead, he just tried to keep busy. This mostly consisted of burning off some of his energy and frustration in the home gym and waiting for the next check-in call with Stiles. He never spoke during the calls, didn’t trust himself to say anything in the condition he was in, but knowing that Stiles was okay helped him maintain his meager control.

He was about to increase the weight he was lifting, when he heard Peter’s phone start to ring with Stiles’ personalized ringtone. Instantly, the image of the hunters surrounding Stiles’ house with lighters and gasoline flashed through his mind. He nearly smashed through the wall, Hulk style, in his rush to get to the living room and arrived just as Peter answered the phone.

“Stiles what’s wrong,” Peter’s voice wavered just the slightest amount. Though he appeared calm on the outside, the room stank of his and Laura’s fear.

“I know what the hunters are planning,” Stiles' voice yelled in panicked excitement through the tiny speaker.

“Stiles I told you not to leave—”

“Can we please skip the part where everyone thinks I always do the opposite of whatever I’m told to. I didn’t leave the house,” Stiles cut him off. “I used my superior intellect and input from my dad’s human perspective and I put it all together.”

Relief washed through Derek, knowing that Stiles was still okay and safely at his father’s house. He collapsed onto the couch next to Laura, whose heart rate was also slowing back to normal.

“If you think it’s about the full moon, we’ve already thought of that.” Peter said, more calmly now that he was assured of Stiles’ safety. All three of them were breathing a little easier.

“No, that’s way too obvious and, frankly, I’m insulted you think so little of my intelligence,” Stiles denied. “It has nothing to do with the full moon. They’re waiting for the smoke from the Prescribed Burning that the forest rangers do every year to mess with our senses. They’re waiting to literally smoke us out.”

They were silent for a moment. If Stiles was right then that really would cripple them.

He hated the annual Prescribed Burning. It made them all too vulnerable, but it was more than that. He already smelled imaginary smoke just from the hunters being in town and it was driving him insane. To have the forest clogged with the actual stuff in addition to having the hunters there would probably make all of them snap. It stirred up too many bad memories and even Peter and Laura weren’t immune to it.

 _I knew I spoke too soon earlier. Things have definitely gotten worse._ He thought as a sense of dread gripped his insides.

“But that’s not for another month,” Laura stated.

“Actually, it’s on Monday,” Stiles corrected. “I saw the flyer at the Sheriff’s station just this morning.”

 “That can’t be right,” Laura protested. “I remember posting the notice about this year’s burning on The Beacon website. I made a point to mark it down on my work calendar and the home calendar.”

 “I spoke with my friend, Aaron, at the Fish and Wildlife Department just yesterday,” the Sheriff voice joined in. “I’d gotten a few calls from people complaining about the change. Aaron wasn’t happy about the sudden change either and confirmed that the burning would start bright and early Monday morning. The date was moved up just a few days ago. One day after the hunters got into town.”

 “When we would be too distracted by the hunters in town to notice the updated flyers around town,” Peter said. “Did he say why they moved up the date of the burning?”

“Apparently, the higher ups had given him some song and dance about weather conditions and environmental studies,” the Sheriff said. “It sounded like a flimsy excuse to me and Aaron agreed, but at the time I hadn’t given it much consideration. I thought it was just the usual bureaucratic nonsense. It hadn’t even occurred to me how it would affect you guys until Stiles and I were talking just now.”

“So someone high up pulled some strings and changed the date,” Stiles said. “Can you say ‘Government Conspiracy’.”

“Not necessarily,” the Sheriff countered. “The Fish and Wildlife Department answers to Washington, but the local offices are the ones who handle most of the details. I can’t imagine it would be too hard to bribe a low level manager to push up the date of something that was going to happen anyways. Especially, if they get paid the same kind of government salary I get.”

“Or there could be a vast network of hunters infiltrating the government,” Stiles piped in. “It would explain why a lot of states are suddenly allowing wolf hunting again, even though they’re still on the endangered species list.”

“Whether they have a fellow hunter in the Fish and Wildlife Department or they just bribed someone is a problem for another day,” Peter said. “What matters now is that in less than two days we will be seriously handicapped with a large threat in our territory.”

“I know you shot the idea down before,” the Sheriff said over the phone. “But if you need it, I could arrange for some patrol cars to be posted outside your house.”

The idea of even more people in their territory at this time rubbed Derek the wrong way. Peter must have agreed with him.

“That might cause more harm than good, John,” Peter said wearily. “It would tip off the hunters that you are, at the very least, a friend to us, which could end up putting a spotlight on you and Stiles. Not to mention that the hunters might not be dissuaded by the presence of the police. It could end up putting you and your deputies in harm’s way.”

“Don’t forget that if these hunters do have friends in high places, then they could use something like that as an excuse to get you fired,” Laura added. “I believe using county property for personal reasons is against regulations.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “You wouldn’t even use the lights on your cruiser when I was gonna be late for school.”

“And how would I justify not taking that risk, if something happened to any of you?” the Sheriff asked.

Things like that gave Derek faith in humanity. After his parent’s death, he’d been pretty bitter and angry at humans in general, even though he had family members who were human. He’d harbored a distrust of all humans for a few years when he was younger, but men like the Sheriff always reminded him that there were good people in the world.

“I assume you still have those harassment complaints we filled out?” Peter asked, changing the subject.

“Yes,” the Sheriff confirmed. “Two separate harassment complaints from you against the three hunters in town waiting in the top drawer of my desk. If anything does happen to you then there will be a clear evidence trail pointing in their direction. I can date them and slip them into the records whenever you need, though I’d rather not need them.”

“Just a contingency,” Peter said.

“Right, well, this means I should get over there as soon as possible,” Stiles said.

“No,” Peter ordered. “You are staying put.”

“But, you’ll need me,” Stiles argued. “We’re all going to be affected but I can at least be a surprise that they aren’t counting on. I could tip the scale in our favor.”

“It’s precisely because we’ll need you that I want you to stay put for the moment,” Peter explained. “Beacon Hills is a small town and by now quite a few people will have heard that you’re back in down. It would be odd if you came back to town only to disappear for you entire visit. The hunters might overhear gossip like that and start to wonder.”

“Well, you’re the one who won’t let me leave the house,” Stiles retorted.

“Well now I’m telling you to go out and do what you would normally do on a visit home,” Peter said. “Say hello to some old friends, do some shopping for your dad, make a nuisance of yourself, but **Stay away from the hunters**.”

“But we need to prepare,” Stiles complained. “We need a strategy. A—”

“We need more information,” Peter cut in. “We need to scope out where the forest rangers are preparing to burn and if their methods are any different than the years before. Something that Derek or Laura would be able to do.”

“But—”

“No buts, Stiles,” Peter said. “I promise that when the time comes, you’ll be right there with us. In the meantime, there is no use tipping our hand by risking the hunters finding out about you before we want them too.”

There was silence over the line for a few moments. Derek was torn between wanting Stiles to be safe miles away and wanting him here right that moment to hold in his arms. Either way he would suffer.

“Fine,” Stiles sighed in surrender. “There is no way I won’t be there Sunday night at the latest, even if you Alpha order me to stay away. And I’m talking, like, six o’clock, right when the sun goes down.”

Derek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, though he was far from relieved. Even with all the new and terrifying information he’d just received, the one that kept repeating over and over in his mind was that Stiles would be here tomorrow night while he was still in heat. The room seemed to get even warmer and the sweat dripping down his neck wasn’t from his exertion in the gym. He didn’t even hear Peter and Stiles say their goodbyes and hang up.

“So they’re going to attack us Monday morning,” Derek spoke for the first time, trying to get his head back to the important issue of the impending attack.

“No,” Peter said. “The burning will start Monday morning but for the hunters to have the advantage, they’ll need to wait at the very least a few hours for the smoke to fill the Preserve.”

“Nightfall would be my guess,” Laura chimed in. “Fewer witnesses.”

“Not a lot of people come out here as it is and with the smoke in the air driving people indoors, I don’t think the hunters would be too concerned about witnesses,” Peter countered.

“Still, they would be stupid to attack, before the smell of smoke had filled the Preserve, which would take hours,” Laura said. “Noon at the earliest.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

“Laura I want you to go check out the forest rangers and the people they brought in for the burning,” Peter said, breaking the tension. “I want to know exactly where they’re going to be burning. Derek’s going with you. He looks like he could use some air.”

“What about you?” Derek asked.

“I have a call to make, now that our timetable has moved up,” Peter replied.

The message was clear, Peter had a call to make that he didn’t want Derek and Laura to hear. Any other time Derek would have protested but right now he needed to be outside. He needed to move and run, to get rid of his nerves. More than that, he needed to see if the forest rangers really were preparing for the Prescribed Burning on Monday. Even though Stiles and the Sheriff had said they were, he still couldn’t believe it was really happening until he saw it with his own eyes.

He and Laura quickly got up from the couch and headed towards the back door. They were both practically vibrating with energy and nervousness but they kept their composure and calmly walked into the woods until they were out of view from the security cameras around the house. Once they cleared those, they shifted into their Beta forms and took off at a swift run.

Trees seemed to fly past them as they ran. Derek had been this way last night on his run but he hadn’t been paying attention then. He’d been too concerned with his heat and only on the lookout for the scent of hunters, not the familiar scents of the forest rangers. After all, the forest rangers were always wandering through the Preserve, remarking the hiking trails and on the lookout for stupid teenagers trying to get drunk in the woods. And it’s not like the forest rangers would be out setting up in the middle of the night, when he went running.

They focused their hearing and soon zeroed in on the sound of a large group of forest rangers and a few ATVs. From the looks of it the rangers were divided into two groups. One group was on the ATVs going around and marking certain points where they would pour the accelerant or light the initial fire. The other group was finishing the clearing of a fire break, which was a control line the forest rangers would use to keep the flames from spreading into areas they didn’t want it to spread.

Sneaking closer, they observed one man, who seemed to be in charge, instructing some of the others in the proper ways to handle a driptorch. He couldn’t smell any gasoline, so the man must have been using water for the demonstration.

 _Wouldn’t want to accidently start the fire before they were ready._ He thought bitterly.

Still, there was no denying that Stiles had been right; they were getting ready for a controlled burn. It was even worse than Derek had feared. In years past, they would burn the thicker areas of the forest to the north. It still clouded the town with smoke but at least it wasn’t coming directly at them. The area they were setting up to burn this year was directly west of their house, so that the strong ocean winds would blow all the smoke from the flames directly towards them.

_Stiles was right. They really are going to smoke us out._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short but I was having a really hard time with it, so I decided to just post it an move on.
> 
> As a side note, the Fish and Wildlife Department isn't actually the one that would handle something like Prescribed Burning but there isn't actually a Forestry Department in the US. There are several other forest related departments but I couldn't quite figure out which one would be in charge of something like that. Also I read a few years ago that Congress was trying to take all the forest and wildlife governement programs and put them under one Department, so in my Alternate Universe this happened and it's all the under the Fish and Wildlife Department.
> 
> And things like a fire break and driptorches are used by forest rangers who do controlled burning.
> 
> Comments and critiques are always welcomed and encouraged.


	7. Chapter 7 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm so sorry this chapter took this long. I just got distracted by so many things and I finally made a tumblr. Tumblr just has a way of sucking you in for days at a time. You can find me at luminescentlily.tumblr.com
> 
> I'll post story updates there and you can send me a message if it ever takes me this long to update again.
> 
> Also this new season is killing me because I totally could have added Cora into the pack. I'm still debating with myself on whether or not I should rewrite this story to include her. For now I'm going to wait and see how her character developes in the show.

He deserved a medal for how patient he was being.

Seriously, he should get a Nobel Prize or maybe even Sainthood.

 _They didn’t even acknowledge how awesome it was that I figured out the hunter’s plans._ He thought dejectedly. Then felt guilty. _Ugh, there are crazy sociopaths waiting for their moment to kill all of us and I’m upset because I didn’t get a pat on the head! What is wrong with me?_

After the call with the pack, Stiles had, grudgingly, followed Peter’s orders to stay away. He spent the first hour finishing his laundry and bemoaning the fact that he was effectively exiled from the Hale house until 6pm tomorrow.

An hour was how long it took his dad to get sick of his constant complaining and kick him out of the house. But not before he warned him, yet again, to stay away from the hunters.

Having absolutely no idea what to do with himself for the next twenty-six hours until he could join his pack, he drove around town for a while. He stopped in at his favorite used books store and the local video game store for a little while but he couldn’t enjoy them like he normally would.

After that, he spent the next few hours just wandering around town, catching up with people he knew and answering the same questions about college again and again and again. Though Stiles was actually a little grateful for that, as it didn’t require much effort on his part to answer, and he let his mind go on autopilot for a while.

Throughout it all, Peter continued to call every hour with updates.

He headed back home around 7pm. Since his dad hadn’t gone shopping in a while and had nothing but microwavable dinners—“Seriously dad, you couldn’t even buy the Lean Cuisine ones”—they went out for a late dinner together. Steering his dad away from the fast food drive-thru, they went to a local family owned steak-and-burgers place. Stiles made sure his dad ordered the turkey burger and a salad instead of a regular burger and fries, like he got. His dad grumbled about it but Stiles was pleased. If he couldn’t help protect his pack from hunters, then protecting his dad from heart disease was the next best thing.

Because his dad has an early shift in the morning, he went straight to bed when they got home and encouraged Stiles to do the same. Peter called to say good night and that he’d call again in the morning. He also told Stiles to get some sleep before he hung up.

_Yeah, like that’s gonna happen._

Even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept, he knew there was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all until the hunters were dealt with. But he also knew his dad would worry about him and so he went into his room, changed into some pajamas, and pretended to go to bed, until he heard his dad’s breathing even out and his heartbeat slow from sleep.

After that, he got up and did what he did best. Research.

He went on a google rampage. He looked up everything about Prescribed Burning, about forest fires in general, and even looked up how to disarm someone wielding a gun, which turned up a surprising number of youtube videos that proved very educational. He even managed to kill some time practicing a few of the techniques they showed, though it probably wasn’t much help since he didn’t have another person to practice against.

He also brushed up on his knowledge of wolfsbane, although, thanks to Peter, he probably knew more about it than most botanists. Still, it never hurt to refamiliarize yourself with the things that could potentially kill you.

Except in this case, where it started giving Stiles all sorts of awful ideas to think about.

 _If they do have someone in the Fish and Wildlife Service or in the Forest Rangers maybe they’ll try and dump a bunch of wolfsbane into the flames._ He speculated. _Then it wouldn’t just be smoke but poison smoke._

He had a near panic attack at that thought until a voice of reason kicked in from the sane part of his brain.

 _They would need to burn literal tons of the stuff to create enough poison smoke to affect the entire forest._ He though. _One of other forest rangers would notice something funny about that. Plus, that would probably end up poisoning the entire town. The hunters wouldn’t be that heartless._

_Would they?_

Despite all he’s heard about hunters, and the innate fear that coursed through him whenever hunters were mentioned, he knew they couldn’t be all bad. According to Peter, most of them followed a code that involves not killing a werewolf unless that werewolf had killed other people, which is kind of understandable. Especially, whenever Stiles thought about the mad Alpha who bit him.

The problem was when you got the few crazies—like the woman who killed Derek and Laura’s parents—that are bigoted zealots. Those are the ones who see all werewolves as abominations that needed to be exterminated. But they actually thought that they were protecting humanity, so it was a pretty safe bet that they wouldn’t risk killing an entire towns worth of people, just to get rid of three werewolves who hadn’t even hurt anyone.

At least he _really_ hoped that was true.

And it wasn’t like they could just leave, not while the hunters were here. Besides the damage they might do to the Hale house, it would ruin their standing in the rest of the werewolf community. This was their home and they had to defend it. If they couldn’t, if they just let the hunters drive them out—even temporarily—then it would send the message that they weren’t strong enough to defend their territory.

Other packs, more aggressive packs, might take that as an admission of weakness, as an opening, and challenge them. It would take years to reestablish their reputation. Years of fighting off hot-shot young Alphas looking to set up in a new place or ambitious packs looking to expand or even random Omegas looking for a fight. Not to mention the hunters that would definitely show up to pick them off while they licked their wounds. That’s assuming they survive all the attempts to oust them. Stiles was under no illusions that his pack was invincible. They were a family and knew how to work together but they could still be overwhelmed by bigger, stronger packs. The Hale name had protected them after the fire and let them rebuild but it wouldn’t protect them forever.

 

 

Dark thoughts consumed him all night, until the sun rose. He still hadn’t slept at all. Knowing his dad would have to get up and get ready for work in a little while, he went downstairs to make him breakfast. While he was cooking, Peter called with a morning status update. As with every other status update so far, nothing new had happened yet. Peter told him that he had a lot of things to prepare, so he wouldn’t call again unless something happened.

When his dad finally came downstairs, freshly showered and in uniform, he didn’t say anything about how Stiles was awake before him or about how breakfast was already made. After they’d finished eating, his dad headed to work. He had originally planned on driving with his dad to the station and hanging out there until it was time to head over to the Hale house but his dad shot down that idea. He pointed out that it would be a little strange if Stiles, who was notorious for sleeping in, was seen coming into the station or even around town before noon at the earliest. He was supposed to be just a typical college student after all.

It might have been a legitimate concern but he knew his dad really just wanted to keep him safe and out of sight for as long as possible. Realizing this, he didn’t put up as much of a fight as he could have and agreed to not visit the station or anywhere else in town for a few hours more.

A little disheartened, he watched his dad get into his cruiser and drive off to work. Once he was gone, Stiles had to find something to do for the next six hours until he could join his dad at the station.

He’d realized yesterday that the only thing that could even remotely distract him from worrying about the hunters was worrying about his dad’s health, so he decided to make that his mission while he waited. Raiding his dad’s kitchen, he looked for all the illicit foods that the doctor had advised against. Thanks to his wolfy super sense of smell, he was able to ferret out all the salty, fatty, and microwavable foods scattered around the refrigerator, cabinets, and pantry. He even found the half eaten bag of pork rinds that his dad had hidden in the coffee canister like a Colombian drug smuggler.

Once he had gathered up all of the contraband foods, he disposed of them in their neighbor’s garbage can, just to make sure that his dad didn’t spot them and try to sneak some back into the house. Then he researched some healthy recipes that were so simple, even his dad couldn’t screw them up. He printed them out and put them in a clearly labeled folder on the kitchen counter. After that he wrote a grocery list.

The entire task had taken a significantly shorter time than he’d anticipated. So, to spend the last couple of hours before he could go to the station, he changed into a pair of sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt, and his red hoodie and went for a run.

Running was the best. It was freedom from everything else in life and one of the few ways he could really let loose without totally exposing his werewolf secret. Wrapped up in his oversized red hoodie, he could afford to wolf out just a little. He was just glad that it was getting colder out so he had an excuse to wear his hoodie. It really sucked in the summer months when people were constantly telling him he’d get heatstroke from wearing it on his runs.

Taking off out the back door so none of his neighbors would see him leave, he cut through the backyards until he reached a more wooded area. With the hood pulled down, he wasn’t too worried about people recognizing him if he went running in town. After all, red and yellow were the Beacon Hills High colors. But, if he went running through the town, he would have to hold back and not run as fast as he really could. And right now he just wanted to let loose.

He waited until he was far enough past the tree line so that the houses were no longer in view, before he burst into a run that would leave Olympic Gold Medalist runners in the dust. He ran in the opposite direction of the Hale house and the hunters. It would be too tempting to disobey Peter’s orders, if he went anywhere near there.

Instead he headed towards the other end of town. It really was beautiful in the forest, with most of the leaves turning from their usual green to brilliant shades of crimson and gold. Light filtered down through the canopy of branches, casting little pools of illumination in the cool shadowed depths of the forest. He wished he’d gone barefoot, so that he could feel the dirt and moss beneath his feet.

Running in the woods, time seem to pass the quickest it had since he’d first learned about the hunters being in town. Soon it was late enough in the day that he could show up at the Sheriff’s station without too much suspicion. If anyone asked why he was even awake before noon, he could just claim that his new class schedule had conditioned him to waking up earlier.

When he got back to the house, he took a quick shower and put on a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt. Then he threw together a healthy lunch for his dad and some of the deputies as his excuse for visiting the Station. After that, he grabbed his keys, made sure he had his shopping list, and took off in his jeep.

 

 

Stiles would have been able to hear the yelling from outside the station, even if he didn’t have super hearing.

“THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!” the man screeched, just as Stiles was parking his jeep. “They can’t just change the date like that with so little warning! I have a restaurant opening this Friday but who’s going to show up, when all that damn smoke drives everyone indoors!”

Stepping inside the station, Stiles spotted a short balding man with a face that reminded him of a tomato, both in shape and color, stamping his foot in the Sheriff’s office waiting room. Standing in front of him, with an agitated look on his face, was his dad.

“Mr. Mancini, I understand your concern, but the Beacon Hill Sheriff’s Department has no jurisdiction over the Fish and Wildlife Department, which handles the Prescribed Burning,” his dad explained. From the monotonous quality of his voice, Stiles guessed that this wasn’t the first time his dad had tried to explain that to the man.

“I _tried_ to talk to them,” tomato-face complained. “They gave me a complete run around and put me on hold for hours, only to tell me that the people I needed to speak with were all out setting up for the Prescribed Burning.”

“Well, Mr. Mancini I don’t know what you think I can do about that,” his dad sighed.

“You can drive out there and order them to stop,” tomato-face said slowly, as if his dad was a four-year-old that needed to be told to put away his toys. “Tell them it’s a public safety issue, which it is, and have them cease this whole ridiculous matter. Prescribed Burning, ha, you and I both know it doesn’t really do anything. It’s just another way to waste the taxpayer’s hard earned money, so they can have their nice cushy government salaries.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr. Mancini,” his dad said, while rubbing his temples. “I report to the County, they report to the State. They outrank me in this matter.”

“This is UNACCEPTABLE!” tomato-face yelled, his face turning even darker, to the point where Stiles thought he might have a stroke or steam would pour out of his ears. “This is all that bastard, Russo’s doing! I know that no-good, piece of trash would find some way to sabotage my big opening. He can’t stand any competition! Not that it would be a _real_ competition once people tasted _rea_ l Italian food. None of that overcooked noodles drowned in ketchup that he serves.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about the Prescribed Burning, Mr. Mancini,” his dad said dully. “Now, if someone tries to rob your restaurant—”

“But they are robbing my restaurant,” tomato-face wailed. “They might as well be taking the money right out of my pocket!”

“I’m sorr—”

“Fine, then I’m calling the Governor’s office!” tomato-face shrilled, as he turned around and rushed past Stiles. He would have slammed the door as well if it weren’t for the fact that the door opened inward.

“Just another pleasant citizen paying their respects to Beacon Hills’ Finest,” Stiles quibbled as he walked forward to stand in front of his dad.

“I wish I could say I don’t have to deal with too many people like him, but that would be a lie,” his dad signed.

“I do my best to screen most of the callers that just complain my ear off but I can’t do much, when they show up and throw a tantrum like a spoiled child,” Cynthia said disapprovingly. “Honestly, I’ve seen children who behaved better than him.”

“I behaved better than that when I was a kid,” Stiles boasted.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” his dad teased.

“Just for that, you get the vegetarian sandwich I made and one of your deputies can have the roast beef,” Stiles countered.

“Wha—Stiles. Now wait a minute—”

“Too late, I’ve already revised the entire sandwich distribution lineup in my head,” Stiles said, even though he had always planned on giving his dad the vegetarian one. He headed toward the employee break room carrying his bag of sandwiches before him like the Holy Grail, his dad at his heels. A few of the deputies at their desks got up to follow them, because who gives up free food.

“Well, it’s too bad we already ordered lunch from the dinner down the street, so we can just save you’re sandwiches for another time,” his dad said.

“Actually, I haven’t called in our lunch order yet,” Cynthia corrected, as she pulled out some plates for the sandwiches. “I was just about to, when Mr. Mancini barged in, so it’s quite lucky that Stiles was thoughtful enough to bring us lunch.”

“I suppose, but some of the other deputies might have wanted something different,” his dad pouted.

“Nah, sandwiches are great boss,” Deputy Gonzalez popped up in the doorway. “And your kid’s a great cook. Everyone loves when he brings in food.”

His dad glared at Gonzalez, who simply ignored him and helped Cynthia pass out the plates. Stiles rearranged the sandwiches so that Gonzalez got the roast beef.

“You know, you shouldn’t make that face dad, it might get stuck that way,” Stiles taunted. “Besides you’ll love your sandwich. It’s got cucumbers, tomatoes, sprouts, spinach, and some fresh avocado slices. Yum.”

His dad grumbled so low that even his werewolf hearing couldn’t pick it up, but he ate his sandwich and even seemed to like it a little, though he kept eying the roast beef sandwich that Gonzalez devoured. Everyone else loved their sandwiches and complimented Stiles on what a great cook he was becoming. Cynthia had to take hers back to her desk so she could answer the phone but most of the other deputies sat and ate. They all teased his dad and asked Stiles all about college.

Stiles always liked all his dad’s deputies. They were good people and actually wanted to help make a difference in their community. And they all loved his dad. Even without listening to what they were saying, he could tell just from their body how much they respected their Sheriff.

Strange to think how well he could read body language, now that he was a werewolf. It was almost like he had been blind his entire life and now he could see. It was like he’d always been ignoring half the conversations he ever had with anyone in the past. Now he could read everything about a person’s mood or opinion just from the angle of their hips or the tilt of their heads or how they held their arms.

 

 

Once everyone finished eating, they drifted back to work, some of them leaving to go on patrol and others focused on paperwork. His dad got called out for a shoplifter at the mall a few minutes after lunch, so Stiles decided to have a chat with Cynthia before he left. Cynthia knew everything that was going on in town and would be his best bet of getting any info about the hunters.

“So, Cynthia, what have I missed since I’ve been away,” Stiles asked, leaning against her desk. “Tell me all the juicy details and sordid scandals.”

“This isn’t Wisteria Lane sweetie,” Cynthia chuckled. “Fortunately for us, the biggest stir-ups we get around here are when people like Mr. Mancini throw their little hissy fits.”

“Still something must have happened around here while I was gone,” Stiles persisted.

Cynthia filled him in on all the local news, mostly consisting of a few teenage pranks, some divorces, and a blotched jewelry store robbery. He already knew most of it from talking to his dad and the pack every week, but it was still nice to talk with Cynthia.

“There was one other little tidbit you might be interested in,” Cynthia said with a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes.

“Oh, do tell,” Stiles said conspiratorially, even though his mind was screaming that it might be some vital clue about the hunters.

“Well, do you remember that boy you used to quarrel with in High School, the one with the fancy car?” Cynthia asked.

“Jackson?” he asked. Last, he’d heard his Parents had pulled some strings and gotten him into Stanford. Then like the dick he was, he very publically dumped Lydia, saying he needed a more “sophisticated” girlfriend now that he was an Ivy Leaguer.

_As if there could ever be anyone more sophisticated than Lydia Martin. And how big of an idiot is he that he didn’t even realize that Stanford isn’t an Ivy League school. Even his parents aren’t rich enough to bribe his way into one of those._

Lydia had put on a brave face but he knew that Jackson had hurt her. Once he’d stopped worshipping her the two of them had become pretty good friends. She was now at Caltech, well on her way to getting her Fields Medal.

“Yes, well, you know my niece Julie, she works as a paralegal for Mr. Whittemore’s law firm and she overheard him screaming bloody murder on the phone one day last week,” Cynthia explained with a smirk. “Apparently, Jackson got himself into some trouble. From what she heard, he’d been stepping on quite a few toes out there and not keeping his grades up at all.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when the teachers don’t give you a free pass for being Captain of the Lacrosse Team,” he snorted.

“They might have if he’d managed to even make the starting line,” Cynthia laughed.

“Wait! You’re telling be Jackson Whittemore is a _benchwarmer_!” he gaped.

“I guess he was just a big fish in a little pond and couldn’t handle being in the ocean.”

“Please tell me they kicked him out,” Stiles pleaded. He could really use some good news right now, and, while it wouldn’t be as good as learning about the hunters, it would at least cheer him up a little.

“Oh, they kicked him out all right, but only after he got drunk and crashed his flashy car into a tree that just happened to be right in front of the Stanford Dean’s house.”

Stiles crowed with laughter. How was it possible for someone to be given so much and just screw it up so horribly?

“Please, please, please tell me there’s a mug shot,” he said. “One of those dazed and ugly photos that would even make Brad Pitt look like a crack addict.”

“There might be,” she said hesitantly. “But I’m not sure I should let you see it. You know I could get in big trouble if it were to get on one of those social media sites you kids are all on today.”

“Cynthia, I would never do that to you or even to Jackson, not matter how much the jerk deserves it,” Stiles said solemnly.

Giving him a small smile, she told him to walk around her desk, while she pulled up the mug shot. It was even better than he could have imagined. Jackson must have hit the steering wheel in the crash because his nose was broken and there was still some bloody tissues hanging out of his nostrils. His nose was also all bruised and purple and showed up vividly against his sallow looking skin, courtesy of the station’s poor lighting. His mouth was set in his trademark sneer but his eyes were disoriented and unfocused. He might have still been drunk or it could have been the powerful flash of the camera, either way he looked awful.

“Cynthia, you have to let me send a copy of this to Lydia,” he implored. “Just to her, not anyone else and not on the internet. She deserves some satisfaction, after the way he treated her.”

Cynthia considered for a moment before smiling.

“Okay,” she relented. “But only to Lydia. I can’t send her the picture from the station. The computer logs would show that it was me.”

“No worries,” Stiles said. “I’ll just snap a pic on my phone and send it to her.”

He sent her the photo with explicit instructions not to give it to anyone else or put it on the internet.  She texted him back almost immediately, something she never did under normal circumstances, thanking him and letting him know that she would do anything to risk his father or anyone else at the station losing their jobs.

After that, he and Cynthia talked for another hour or so but she didn’t know anything about the hunters. Soon he decided to head out and do some grocery shopping for his dad, while he waited for the last two hours until he could join the Hales. Saying his goodbyes to Cynthia, he got in his jeep and drove to the store. He bypassed the Safeway in favor of the mom and pop store a few streets over. Some of their prices were a little bit higher than Safeway, but they had a much bigger organic fruit and vegetable section that was all locally grown.

 _It’s always good to support the local economy._ He thought as he pulled into the parking lot. The fact that the manager of the Safeway still gave him dirty looks because he knocked over a display _one time_ had absolutely nothing to do with it. He was a badass scary werewolf and he wasn’t intimidated by a supermarket worker. To be fair thought, the guy did sort of look like a serial killer; a creepy Ted Bundy type serial killer not a hot serial killer look, like Derek.

It took him ten minutes to get from his car to the front door of the store because he was stopped five separate times by people he knew, saying hello and asking him about college. Once he finally got inside and got his shopping cart, he pulled the shopping list out of his pocket and started browsing up and down the aisles. He started in the produce section, stocking up on fresh fruit and vegetables, and then worked his way to the canned and boxed foods. He carefully reads the labels for the ingredients and health information of several different brands, before he decides to put anything into his cart.

He’d learned long ago that just because something said ‘low fat’ or ‘fat free’ on the box, doesn’t mean that the stuff is healthy. He still remembered when he found out that ‘diet soda’ was actually short for ‘diabetic soda’ and that it had artificial sweeteners in it that were even worse for you than regular sugar. Then there was high fructose corn syrup. That stuff was death in a bottle, or whatever it came in. Seriously, he didn’t know how marijuana was illegal and that stuff wasn’t. No matter what the corporate sponsored commercials said, it was _not_ the same as sugar and it caused real harm to people’s bodies. It can be converted to fat more easily than regular sugar. It slows the production of insulin and leptin which are the chemicals that tell your body that you’re full. So, when you don’t get those chemicals, you’ll want to eat more of the foods with high fructose corn syrup in them. This has actually created food addictions in some people. And nutritionists have directly linked it with all sorts of liver problems.

It didn’t help that the food industry used it in practically _everything_. People would be shocked to learn just how much of the foods they ate contained high fructose corn syrup, and not just the sugary sweet things. It’s used in pretty much every frozen dinner, salad dressings, canned fruit, ketchup, and so-called honey roasted nuts. Yeah, it’s not really honey that they’re roasted with. It was even used in pickles! Pickles for cryin’ out loud! And yet people still complained about how hard it was to lose weight all their health problems.

_Though if people just learned the read the labels of the foods they bought maybe we wouldn’t have so many health problems in this country._

He was so caught up in his internal rant against high fructose corn syrup that he didn’t even notice it until it was almost right next to him.

The smell of wolfsbane.

His body froze in stark contrast to his heart which was hammering like a hummingbird, threatening to burst out of his chest. Not ten feet to his left he could hear the hunter cautiously making his way down the aisle towards him. The hunter’s footsteps and breathing were slow and even, but his heart rate was accelerated in excitement. Every fiber in Stiles’ body screamed to turn around and attack. Instead, he held himself completely still and pretended to still be completely absorbed in his study of the shelves in front of him.

The hunter continued his slow approach and then stopped a few feet away.

_Is he trying to sneak up on me? He has to know I can hear him._

His wolf growled in anger and fear. It didn’t like having its back to an enemy. It would rather have its teeth in the enemy’s throat. But the hunter didn’t wasn’t making a move yet.

Slowly, he turned his body, pretending to reach for another item on the shelf and got his first real look at one of the men who was threatening his pack.

He was not what Stiles was expecting at all.

 ** _That_** _is what I’ve spent the last few days being scared of?_ He thought incredulously.

Even though he’d squeezed every detail about what the hunters looked like out of his dad, he was still expecting something a little more intimidating than the man—no boy—standing to his left. His dad had told him that they were kids around his own age but in his head he couldn’t help imagining them looking like the Terminator or something equally as imposing. Instead it was just a regular guy about his age with spiky blonde hair.

His wolf still wanted to tear out his throat.

 _That’s the youngest one, the same one that’s been following Derek._ Stiles thought. _He doesn’t look like much. Then again, that could be a great way to fool your enemies._

Still something was definitely off here.

He’d heard the hunter’s heart rate and assumed he was about to attack, but the guy standing just a few feet from looked like the only thing he was going to be attacking was the bags of chips he was tossing into his cart.

Also, the hunter’s body language was all wrong, if he was trying to be aggressive. His muscles were relaxed, not tensed and ready to pounce. His posture was slouched and it would be child’s play for Stiles to knock him off balance. He actually looked a little bored, not ready for a fight at all. There was nothing to indicate that he even realized that Stiles was right next to him. He could have been one of the displays for all the attention the hunter showed him.

He didn’t smell any fear or excitement or even nervousness either, nothing to indicate that the hunter was anything but an average guy buying some junk food. Granted, it was hard to smell anything over the thick scent of wolfsbane, but if he was here to kill him—or even just to watch him like they’d done to the rest of the pack, he would smell some kind of interest from the guy.

No, the hunter smelled strange and not just because of the miasma of wolfsbane surrounding him. He’d thought that Peter had been exaggerating about how strong the smell of wolfsbane was around them but he wasn’t. The hunter must have had some in every pocket and a few hidden pockets as well for it to be that strong. But even underneath all that this was something else.

He smelled sick.

His heart rate was still elevated as well.

Seconds ticked by and still nothing happened. He started to wonder if the faster beat was the hunter’s normal heart rate. He’d heard of people with heart conditions that accelerated their heart rates but not like this.

He couldn’t think about it for long because the hunter grabbed another item off the shelf and then headed back up the aisle. Stiles followed him cautiously, making sure that he stopped and grabbed random items off the shelves and pretended to read the labels every so often, but always keeping the hunter in sight. He got a few strange looks at one point, before he realized that he’d picked up a box of tampons and was reading the instructions on the back. Startled he flailed about slightly and nearly dropped the box but managed to put it back on the shelf and hastily turn into the next aisle. He glanced back at the hunter but he seemed to have missed Stiles spaz-out.

Another odd thing he noticed about the hunter was that, when he stopped every so often, he would shake his leg and stamp his foot a few times. It looked like what someone did when their leg fell asleep and they got that pins and needles feeling.

_But he’s walking around. His foot couldn’t stay asleep that long._

Finally, the hunter brought his cart up to the registers. Stiles got in line at the register right next to him even though he’d only gotten about two thirds of the items on his shopping list. The hunter had fewer items than he did, but Stiles’ line was movie faster. He managed to pay for his groceries and get them all back in the cart just in time to follow the hunter out the front door.

Once they were outside, the hunter reached in his pocket and got out his phone. Whoever he was calling was on speed dial. Stiles pulled his cart next to a random car and acted like he was going through his pockets looking for his keys, when really he was focusing his hearing so that he could listen in on the hunter’s call.

“Hey Chad,” spiky blonde hunter (or SBH) said. “Yeah I got all the food. Yeah I got you mild even though spicy is way better. I still can’t believe you’re getting heart burn, what are you, fifty.”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes with mostly “yeahs” and “I know rights” coming from SBH.

“Yeah man, I hope we can see some action soon,” SBH whined. “This stake-out thing is super boring. We needed to get to the main event soon or I’m gonna go crazy.”

 _He’s here to kill my pack and he’s complaining about how BORING it is._ Stiles seethed.

If it wouldn’t ruin his chance to get some Intel on the hunters he’d go and rip that little douche bag into pieces right now. The hunter just complained for the next few minutes while he loaded up his car. Talking about how he was getting cramps in his legs and how it kept falling asleep and how he was even getting chest pains from sitting in the car so long. He was still complaining to the other hunter on the phone, when he started the car and drove off.

Stiles watched him drive away, a massive ball of rage and confusion lodged in his chest. He desperately wanted to follow him but Peter had ordered him to stay away from them. Besides it was almost time for him to join the rest of the pack.

 

 

Rushing home, he hastily put the groceries way—mostly shoving it all in the fridge, even things that didn’t need to be in the fridge—then got back in his jeep and headed towards the Hale house. He couldn’t drive up to the Hale house without the hunters seeing so he left his jeep in the Preserve’s public parking lot. No one would be going on nature hikes while the Prescribed Burning was going on and most of the forest rangers would be helping with that, so it would be okay to leave his jeep there for a few days if he needed to. He would run the rest of the way through the woods to get there.

He was going to be early but he didn’t care.

He was less than a mile away from the Hale house, when Laura came into view. Stiles’ first instinct would have been to panic, if it weren’t for her relaxed posture. He slowed to a walk and then stopped next to her.

“Hey Laura, is everything okay?” he asked, as Laura pulled him into a big hug.

“Everyone is fine,” Laura assured him, while stepping back. “Or, at least as okay as they can be, considering there are hunters in town who are planning to kill us within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Okay, so why are you meeting me out here?” he asked. “You know Peter already warned me about the security cameras, so I would have acted normal when I got close enough to the house.”

“No, it’s not that,” Laura said hesitantly. “There is something else you should know about, before you get to the house.”

“Oooookay,” Stiles said slowly, not liking the sound of this at all.

“It’s about Derek,” Laura explained. “He’s in heat.”

“Heat,” Stiles squawked. “Now! Is he okay? Is he—?”

“He’s fine,” Laura assured him. “It’s nowhere near as bad as your first heat was. It’s just difficult for him, with the hunters being in town and everything. His temper is shorter than usual and his wolf is a lot closer to the surface.”

Stiles was only half listening to Laura. All his wolf heard was that Derek was in heat and it wanted to be with him right now.

“Is he—I mean couldn’t he have taken care of that before…” Stiles asked and hated himself for even suggesting that Derek have sex with someone else.

“He didn’t have time,” Laura said. “The hunters arrived on Tuesday and his heat didn’t start until Friday night.”

 _Friday!_ Stiles thought. _He’s been in heat the entire time I’ve been here._

“You, ah…you could have called me,” Stiles said hesitantly. “I could have helped. I mean, I…I wouldn’t have minded helping him… with his heat. You know, so that he’d be in better control… to deal with the hunters.”

Laura gave him a look that said ‘I know that’s not the real reason you’re offering and that you really just want to jump my brother’s bones’ but thankfully she didn’t say that out loud. He didn’t know why he even tried to kid himself that Peter and Laura didn’t know about his feelings for Derek. He was just glad that Derek hadn’t figured it out yet. He could live with unrequited love, he’d done it for years with Lydia, but he’d never be able to recover from Derek flat out rejecting him.

_I’d probably have to run away to another pack just to be able to function._

“I suggested that as soon as we realized he was in heat but he and Peter shot me down,” Laura said, letting up on the judgment stare slightly. “They thought it would be better to keep you out of this for a long as possible.”

“Yeah, because I need protecting,” Stiles huffed.

“Yes, you do,” Laura surprised him by agreeing.

“I’m not weak!” Stiles said defiantly.

“Compared to a normal person, no, you’re not physically weak, but that doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” Laura countered. “Especially, against hunters who know how to kill werewolves. We’re all vulnerable right now Stiles and we can’t do anything without thinking things through.”

“Fine, can we just go inside now?” Stiles huffed. He was on edge before he came here and Laura’s news only made him more nervous. And he really wanted to tell Peter about his run in with the hunter.

“Sure”

They walked the rest of the way to the house in silence. She pointed out the security cameras to him when the house came into view. He didn’t like them. They were supposed to make people feel safer but to Stiles they were just another reminder of the danger they were in. At least they were well hidden. Even with his werewolf senses, he wouldn’t have been able to pick them out if he didn’t know where to look.

Feeling a little guilty about snapping at Laura, he held the door open for her as a peace offering. She smiled at him and ruffled his hair as she walked past. He knew she understood.

That was the last coherent thought that passed through his mind before he felt it.

The first whiff of Derek’s scent hit him like a sledgehammer. He actually stopped mid-step and nearly fell over, it was just so powerful. Derek’s normal scent was already alluring enough but elevated with arousal and the extra pheromones, it was downright mouth-watering. Without thinking, his body carried him towards the delicious scent. He walked right by Peter standing in the living room and stopped at the foot of the stair. Walking down them, like a Greek God descending from Mount Olympus, was Derek.

_Fuck!_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about another cliffhanger. The next chapter will have tons of steamy hot smut I promise.
> 
> Comments and critiques are always welcome.


	8. Chapter 8 Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I made my deadline. I skipped sending it to my Beta to read over to be able to post earlier, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Also I want to remind everyone that this is set in an alternate universe where Kate never seduced Derek, so they never had sex.

  


_Stiles will be here soon._

That one thought had been repeating itself again and again and again in his mind for the last few hours.

After he and Laura had reported back about the forest rangers setting up for the prescribed burning, he’d had nothing to distract himself from thoughts of Stiles. Peter had banned him from the home gym, before he could break anymore equipment. He’d tried sparing with Laura but, even when she was going easy on him, she still beat him in just one or two moves. This only depressed him more.

 _If I can’t even keep my head on straight for a simple sparing match, how am I supposed to protect my pack from hunters?_ He berated himself.

He couldn’t go to sleep that night either. He hadn’t slept in days and he was starting to feel the effects but he only ended up tossing and turning in bed. If it hadn’t been for Laura forcing him into a chair at the kitchen table and shoving platefuls of food in front of him, he wouldn’t even have eaten.

Then Stiles had sent a text letting them know he was coming over.

If he’d thought he’d been aroused before, it was nothing compared to how downright desperate he was now that he knew Stiles was on his way. His hand was practically super-glued to his dick, like a twelve-year-old who had just learned how to masturbate. At this point, he didn’t even care that Peter and Laura heard him whimpering Stiles’ name every time he came.

He had some insane idea that if he came enough times before Stiles got here then he would be better able to resist tackling him as soon as he walked in the door. But that wasn’t the way being in heat worked and he knew it.

_Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Not even my first heat was this bad._

He had wanted to run out into the woods and meet Stiles half-way but Peter ordered him to stay in the house. Laura was sent instead, to warn Stiles about his heat. Meanwhile, he was waiting up in his room, anxious and terrified. Half of him wanted to disobey Peter’s orders and run to Stiles and the other half wanted to run away in the opposite direction.

_What if I can’t control myself and I end up attacking him and he doesn’t want me? Would I be able to stop myself from just taking him? No, I’d die before I hurt Stiles. But what if—_

 

 

 

 

His mind was a hazy ball of lust and rage. The combined effects of being in heat, little to no sleep, and worrying about the hunters was taking their toll on him. He was so close to just lunging at Stiles and claiming him on the living room floor. But he also wanted to protect Stiles and send him far away from the hunters. Anger at the hunters was the only thing keeping him in control right now, but that wasn’t saying much. As soon as he heard the back door open and heard Stiles enter the house, he was out of his room and headed towards him.

“Why couldn’t you have just stayed at Berkeley?”

He hadn’t meant to say that. He wanted to hug Stiles and tell him how much he’d missed him. Wanted to tell Stiles that he would protect him and not let anything happen to him, but instead he yelled at him. The anger that was allowing him to hold his wolf back from pouncing on Stiles couldn’t spare any kind words.

“What?” Stiles asked in disbelieve and more than a little anger.

_Maybe it’s better this way. Let him think I’m angry at him. Maybe he’ll leave. I don’t care if he hates me as long as it keeps him safe._

“You should go back to Berkeley,” Derek gritted out. “You’ll only be in danger here.”

His mind was at war with itself. He wanted Stiles more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. Wanted to hold him, claim him, and never let him out of his sight. On the other hand, he wanted Stiles to be safe and that meant getting him as far away from the hunters as possible.

“Yeah, well so are you,” Stiles shouted back, even though they were right next to each other.

_Close enough to touch._

“I know how to fight against a real opponent; you’ve yet to even beat any of us in a sparring match.”

“Well, right now I’m in better shape than you are Derek!”

That hurt. Not just the fact that he was right about his condition but Stiles hardly ever called him by his name. It was usually always Sourwolf or Grumpywolf or any one of a dozen nicknames.

“We can handle the hunters—”

“Like hell—”

“That’s ENOUGH!” Peter roared. Derek flinched and tore his eyes away from Stiles to glance at his uncle. “Both of you. Stile is here now and that’s the end of it.”

Stiles grumbled but let Laura lead him over to the couch. Derek’s wolf whined at the increasing distance between them but he remained standing on the stairs, gripping the railing like a lifeline. Peter starting talking again but Derek barely heard him, too fixated on the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat to concentrate on anything else. He caught bits and pieces of Peter’s plan. Something about “special dust masks” and “potential assistance.”

It wasn’t until he heard Stiles’ voice that his brain started paying attention to the conversation

“What’s the advantage of having me here, if you aren’t even going to let me help?” Stiles griped.

_How can he be this careless with his own life!_

“Don’t you get it” Derek thundered. “If they don’t know about you then you’re SAFE from them! The greatest protection a werewolf can have against hunters isn’t a strong pack; it’s to be completely unknown to them. As long as hunters don’t know about you they will never come after you. You’ll never have to worry about someone coming in the middle of the night to burn your family alive around you.”

That last part may have been Derek projecting his own fears but it seemed to get through to Stiles. A thoughtful expression crossed the younger man’s face. The anger in Stiles’ eyes softened and he just looked so enticing. Even in his anger he just wanted grab Stiles and kiss him senseless. His wolf wanted to rub himself all over Stiles and curl around him protectively.

_Claim him. Mark. Mate!_

He didn’t even realize he was stalking towards Stiles, until Laura stepped in his path.

“Maybe you should go and take a cold shower, Der,” she uttered softly. “It might help you clear your head.”

She turned him around and pushed him towards the stairs. He’d already taken three cold showers that day but he needed an excuse to escape Stiles and his delicious scent. Seizing his chance, he left without another word. Heading to his room, he stomped up the stairs like their very existence personally offended him.

A cold shower was a great idea at the moment. It had been bad enough trying to control his wolf, when he knew that Stiles was back in town, but to have him in the same room and practically oozing arousal from every pour was killing him. Rationally, he knew that Stiles was just reacting to the heat pheromones his body was producing, but try telling his wolf that. He was hanging on to his control by a thread that was fraying more and more every second.

His blood felt like liquid fire in his veins and nothing could soothe it. Striping off his clothes helped a little. Another wonderful side effect of being in heat was “increased sensitivity to touch.” That pretty much translated to “makes everything feel like sandpaper and gravel.”

 _Everything, except for skin on skin contact._ He thought. _Especially, Stiles’ creamy smooth skin, with those delectable moles and—No, you can’t think like that when he’s right down stairs._

Stepping onto the cool porcelain of the shower floor, he turned the cold water on full blast. It was a shock to his system but it cleared his mind somewhat. It did absolutely nothing to dampen the heat blazing beneath his skin, however. Only one thing would be able to help that. Scrubbing his hair and every inch of skin furiously, he tried to replace the memory of Stiles’ scent with the overpowering smell of soap with little success. Not daring to touch himself with Stiles sitting just downstairs, he stood motionless under the showerhead as the spray of cold water beat against his oversensitive skin.

After a while, his skin had long since turned pruney and he decided to get out. He still wasn’t in any shape to resist Stiles but he vowed to lock himself in his room and avoid him at all costs. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he made his way back to his bedroom. He was about to grab some clothes from his dresser when the creak of his bedroom door alerted him to presence of another person. Recognizing the unique rhythm of Stiles’ heart he carefully turned around with a mixture dread and hope.

Derek hadn’t even heard him coming up the stairs. Stiles could be astoundingly quiet and stealthy when he wanted to be, especially when he was barefoot like he was now.

“What are you doing Stiles,” he asked, trying to use his anger to cover the deep need pooling in his gut.

“You’re in heat,” Stiles answered. “I’m here to help.”

_Yes!_

“No” he managed to get out steadily.

Even with his wolf howling for it, he couldn’t take advantage of Stiles like that. Again. It was bad enough that he’d stolen Stiles’ first time. He could force him into something like this again. He wouldn’t.

Not to mention that Stiles clearly didn’t really want to do this with him. Nervousness wafted off of Stiles and his body language was like a frightened deer, seconds away from dashing off.

_God, Laura probably put him up to this._

_No, he wants this. I can smell it._ His wolf growled.

Stiles positively stank of arousal but that was just a biological response. Any werewolf not related to him by blood would respond to his heat pheromones the same way.

But that didn’t stop Derek from wanting him. Didn’t stop every cell in his body from crying out for Stiles’ touch. And it certainly didn’t help his control, when Stiles was right in front of him, offering himself up, while Derek just stood there in nothing but a towel. A stupid towel that did absolutely nothing to hide Derek’s insistent errection.

“Derek…” Stiles said uncertainly, taking a cautious step forward.

Derek responded by taking a step back, only to bump into the footboard of his bed. Trapped, he gripped the footboard with one hand and clutched his towel tighter in the other. His heart was hammering and his breathing was harsh in his own ears.

“Derek,” Stiles said again, this time with confidence, as he took another deliberate step forward. “You can barely function like this. You need my help. If you won’t do it for yourself, then for the pack.”

The words were like a knife to his gut. He knew Stiles was right. He needed to be at the top of his game to face off against the hunters but it hurt knowing that was the only reason Stiles was only doing this.

_Like it’s a chore. Something he has to endure for the good of the pack._

Derek stayed silent, watching as Stiles took another step closer, then another, and another, until he was standing right in front of him.

“Derek,” Stiles all but whispered. “You helped me with my heat. Let me help you. _Please_.”

It was the “please” that finally broke him. That one word held so much emotion. And as he looked into those warm caramel eyes, so sincere and gentle, he could almost believe that Stiles actually wanted him. He nodded.

He watched, as Stiles gingerly reached to where he was still clutching his towel. Then Stiles’ dexterous fingers took hold of the towel’s edges and deliberately pulled it away, all while carefully avoiding skin contact.

Derek resisted for a moment, before unclenching his hand and letting the towel drop to the floor. The entire time, Stiles had been holding steadily holding Derek’s gaze, but once the towel was gone, his eyes raked down Derek’s body. Knees going weak at the hunger he saw in Stiles’ eyes, he grabbed the footboard with both hands to keep from collapsing. Just having Stiles here reeking of arousal and staring at him like that was driving him wild.

Then Stiles sunk down on his knees in front of him. He nearly came just from the sight of Stiles on his knees looking up at him through his eyelashes. That’s what his wolf wanted to do; mark its mate with his cum and his scent. His human side thought it would be pretty hot as well. But he held back. He didn’t want to risk doing anything that Stiles wouldn’t like and have him leave. If Stiles tried to leave now, his wolf would chase.

“Jeez, you _really_ need this Sourwolf” Stiles breathed against the head of his cock and placed a steadying hand against his thigh. It felt like a branding iron against his skin but in such a good way.

Stiles was right, he did need this. Needed it more than the air he breathed. His cock was red and throbbing and twitched as Stiles’ warm breath ghosted over it. A bead of precum was forming at the tip. He groaned when he saw Stiles lick his lips. That pretty pink tongue darting out to moisten those plump lips. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and gripped the footboard so hard he could feel it splintering.

Then Stiles’ voice broke through.

“I’ve kinda never done this before so, like, pointers would be good, ya’know,” Stiles spoke softly.

Derek’s eyes burst open and stared down at the younger wolf before him. He was completely stunned. How could this possibly be the first time Stiles has given a blow job? There had to be tons of people at Berkeley who wanted to have sex with Stiles. Anyone with eyes had to see how exquisite Stiles was. He’d have to be beating them away with a stick. But he was telling the truth. If he hadn’t heard the steady beat of his heart and a gorgeous blush appearing on his cheeks and the back of his neck proving that he wasn’t lying, then he would have never believed it.

Before he could ask Stiles about it, all thought in his mind was wiped out by the feeling of Stiles’ tongue on the head of his cock. His brain turned to mush and all that mattered in the universe was the kittenish licks Stiles was applying to his cock.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to grow bolder and soon he took the head of Derek’s cock into his luscious mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. He trembled with the effort to remain standing as Stiles became more confident, taking him deeper into that warm, wet heaven.  He could feel his fangs and claws extending as all his control went into the Herculean effort to not thrust forward into that sinfully beautiful mouth. He had to let Stiles do this at his pace and only what he was comfortable with, even if his wolf was roaring to fuck Stiles mouth. Instead he ground his teeth together and dug his claws into the wood of his footboard propping him up.

Soft growls and moans escaped him, despite his best efforts. He knew Peter and Laura were downstairs and could probably hear everything going on up here but it seemed like the more Stiles sucked his dick the less he cared. His wolf was even pleased at the thought that his pack could hear what Stiles did to him. And the burning in his veins only urged him on further.

He no longer had any doubts that Stiles had been telling the truth about this being the first blowjob he’d ever given. It was pretty obvious that he had very little idea of what he was doing but Stiles’ enthusiasm more than made up for any lack of skill. It was wet and sloppy and oh so perfect. Even the times Stiles accidentally let his teeth slip, only added to the pleasure. His wolf rumbled in approval at being the first—and only, if it had its way—one to claim that perfect mouth.

And Stiles was a very fast learner.

Derek could also judge Stiles’ confidence level by how much of his dick Stiles took into his mouth. He started taking more of his cock into his mouth, bobbing up and down. Stiles even placed his other hand on his hip to get more leverage.

Then Stiles got a little too eager and tried to swallow him all the way down and choked himself. Derek’s whole body shuddered as he felt Stiles’ throat contract around the head of his cock.

He whined in protest, when Stiles pulled off to catch his breath. Even though he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers into Stiles’ messy hair and thrust into his mouth, he steeled himself to not move and wait for Stiles to recover. Luckily, for him Stiles bounced back quickly and with determination.

Derek was already so close, when he looked down and saw those beautiful honey gold-eyes staring back at him, filled with mischievous satisfaction, he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. It was all too much; the heat, the feel of Stiles’ mouth, and just Stiles here on his knees for him. He wasn’t going to last any longer.

“Stiles,” he gasped. “I’m close. So close.”

Stiles hummed in acknowledgment, sending wonderful vibrations through his cock, and pulled back until just the head of Derek’s cock was still in his mouth. Another high pitched whine escaped his mouth, before Stiles took his hand off his thigh and started to stroke him.

He came hard, moaning Stiles’ name, and shooting into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles even managed to swallow most of his cum, though some of it dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Somehow that only made it even hotter.

When Stiles did finally pull back, a string of saliva and cum still connected Stiles’ mouth to Derek’s cock. It was obscene and it almost made Derek cum again, even though he’d just cum seconds before.

He watched, mesmerized, as Stiles licked his lips, catching all drool and cum around his mouth. Derek didn’t even realize he was moaning until Stiles’ head whipped up to look at him. Those dazzling golden amber eyes were almost completely black his pupils were blown so wide in lust. He couldn’t hold back a whimper.

“We should—bed. I mean, you—I—where’s your lube?” Stiles rambled, his voice a little rough.

“Bedside drawer,” he gasped.

Stiles got to his feet like an awkward baby horse learning to walk for the first time. It might have had something to with the obvious tent in his pants.

His wolf wanted to pounce on Stiles’ retreating form but another idea popped into his head. He didn’t want this to the last time he ever got to be with Stiles. He had to do something to show Stiles that they could be good together. That they could be equals.

Before the thought had even fully formed in his mind he was climbing onto his bed and positioning himself on his hands and knees, presenting himself to Stiles.

“Okay, I got the lube and…” Stiles trailed off and Derek heard a thumping noise of something falling to the ground.

“Derek, you—I thought—I mean don’t you,” Stiles voice choked out in shock.

_Shit, did I make a mistake? Maybe he doesn’t want this._

“It’s better this way,” Derek gritted out, resisting the urge to wiggle his ass to entice Stiles. “I won’t be able to control myself. It’s better if you take charge.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. If he was on top in his current condition, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from just rutting into Stiles. No, control or finesse. He might even accidentally hurt Stiles by going to hard in his desperate need for release.

_And this way there’s less of a chance of me embarrassing himself again by trying to give you another claiming bite._

“Right, okay then, I’ll just…”

There was a rustle of clothing being hastily taken off and hitting the floor. Then there was a dip in the bed behind him and he didn’t dare look back. He was already quivering and panting in anticipation, if he were to see that creamy mole-dotted skin, he lose it and start begging. But he couldn’t help canting his hips to raise his ass a little for Stiles.

A strangled noise and some cursing came from behind him but he only gripped the sheets tight.

“Are you sure you want me to—cause I might not be that good,” Stiles said meekly. “I haven’t really done this before. Haven’t done anything since…us.”

That only made Derek groan.

_He hasn’t been with anyone else. No one else has touched him!_

“I’m sure Stiles, just fuck me.”

“Okay—I’ll just—lube.”

Derek heard the click of the lube cap opening and the squirting noise. He shivered in want. This wasn’t the first time he’d bottomed or been with another wolf, when he was in heat, but he’d never wanted it so much. Normally, he had to fight with his wolf to allow someone to dominate him. His wolf was just never comfortable being in such a vulnerable position of having someone at his back, in his blind spot.

But with Stiles it was completely different. His wolf actually wanted to be belly up for Stiles. He just wanted Stiles, in any way he could have him. Even if it meant Stiles would always top, then he’d have absolutely no problem with that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by one of Stiles’ hands trailing slowly down his spine, starting from his tattoo going all the way to just above his ass. Then Stiles slowly spreading his ass cheeks, exposing his entrance. He braced himself for the feeling of a finger slicked up with cold lube but was shocked by a warm breath followed by a very warm, wet tongue.

“Stiles!” he yelled, going absolutely rigid in shock.

“Hmmm” Stiles hummed as that wicked tongue continued flicking over his hole.

Derek couldn’t even form coherent words, as the tip of Stiles tongue circled his hole before pressing and wiggling its way past the rim, while his hands massaged his ass cheeks. Precum was dripping out of his dick like a fountain and he felt like he was going to burst at the seams. It was too much. He’d had plenty of fantasies involving Stiles tongue licking his muscles, licking his dick or his nipples, and even just French kissing, but none of them even came close to how incredible Stiles tongue felt in his ass. He had completely shredded the sheets underneath him and was probably ripping into the mattress but he couldn’t care less.

Then a finger started joining Stiles’ tongue, quickly followed by another. Those long, clever fingers stretching his opening, allowing Stiles tongue to get even further inside of him. Instinctively, he pressed himself back, trying to get more. It was all over far too soon, when Stiles found his prostate. One curl of those talented fingers and cumming all over the bed beneath him.

“Fuck that was hot,” Stiles said breathlessly.

Derek whined at the loss of his tongue inside of him but at least Stiles still kept his fingers in, keeping him somewhat filled. He even added another.

“I’ss good,” Derek slurred, he was sweating and every muscle in his body quivering. His body was screaming for release, for Stiles’ knot. “I’ss ‘nuff. Get in me.”

“Are you sure? Last time you used four fingers—”

“Stiles just fuck me already,” he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.

“Yeah, okay. Let me just…”

There was another squirt from the lube bottle followed by the slick, wet of Stiles lubing up his own cock. Derek groaned and, even without looking, he could picture Stiles’ hand on his dick, those wonderful fingers covering it with lube. He whined again.

“Okay, so, I’m just gonna—”

“Stop talking about it and do it,” Derek half demanded, half begged.

He was a shaking; panting mess and he needed Stiles in him yesterday. Derek felt Stiles grab onto his hip and then he felt Stiles’ tip at his entrance. He arched his back, desperate to have Stiles inside of him. Instead, Stiles gripped his him harder to keep him in place and slowly—painfully slow—pressed into him.

Part of him knew that Stiles was trying to hold himself back and make this last. Knew that Stiles would be embarrassed by cumming to fast on his first time but right now he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Stiles’ knot formed and he came right now, he needed it so badly. He begged, shamelessly, for Stiles to just let go and knot him but he refused. Stiles said something about make it good for Derek and making it last but he barely heard him. All he could focus on was Stiles’ cock slowly sliding in and out of him, like some exquisite torture.

The first few strokes were clumsy and awkward but he soon found a rhythm that had Derek _screaming_ in pleasure. Derek was never that vocal, even during sex, but there was just something about being with Stiles that made want to let the entire world hear him.

All the while Stiles kept up a steady stream of swearing and praise.

“Oh God—Oh Shit! Derek, I’m not gonna last. Fuck! You’re so tight—Shit your ass is perfect. I’m gonna love cumming in that sweet ass!”

“Yes, Stiles! Cum in me. Knot me! Fill me!”

Even when he got going, Stiles’ thrusts were a little erratic. The angle was a little off and he only managed to brush against Derek’s prostate every few thrust but it still felt amazing. The sweet friction of Stiles’ cock inside of him was better than anything he’d ever felt.

“Harder Stiles! Please God, HARDER!”

“Fuck! Derek!”

Derek could feel it, when Stiles’ knot started to form. Stiles’ thrusts started getting shorter and harder. He also bent forward and draped his body over Derek’s back and started tracing his tattoo with his tongue, driving him insane.

Soon Stiles knot was fully locked inside of him, stretching him to the brink, filling him like never before. It was perfect. He’d never felt this full, this complete before, except for when he’d knotted Stiles. Stiles was just rocking his hips into him, grinding his knot right into his prostate, sending lightening strikes of pleasure through his entire body. He was so close that all it took was Stiles reaching down and palming his cock for him to cum thick ropes all over himself and the bed.

He howled his release to the world and threw his head back and to the side, wantonly offering it to Stiles to bite.

Instead of biting him, Stiles howled his own release along with him and then collapsed on top of him. With his own strength nearly gone as well, he too collapsed, though he managed to shift them to their sides.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! That was—that was—Fuck Der, that was incredible.” Stiles panted and pressed himself completely against Derek’s backside, wrapping an arm around his waist protectively.

He shifted back into his fully human form but couldn’t help the low purr-like growl that escaped him. His wolf was reveling in the feeling of Stiles wrapped around him—still locked inside of him, filling him with cum—and nuzzling the back of his neck. He felt safe and…content. It was the best he’d felt since he’d been with Stiles during his heat.

Once he caught his breath again, he noticed that his dick was ready to go again, what with Stiles’ knot still a constant pressure against his prostate, still sending jolts of pleasure up and down his spine. He was about to reach down and relieve himself, when Stiles beat him to it. Those clever fingers encased his cock and started stroking, using some of the copious amounts of Derek’s cum to slick things up.

“Stiles,” he gasped. “You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough.”

“Just shut up and enjoy it, Sourwolf.”

Stiles might not have been that experience in giving a blow job or topping but he was more than qualified to give a hand job. After all, what teenage boy didn’t have tons of experience with their hands on a dick? It took him less than a minute to get into a rhythm that had Derek moaning and writhing.

“Fuck Stiles! Do that again!” he moaned, when Stiles did a little twist right at the head of his cock.

Stiles had him cumming again in a matter of minutes but then took the next one at a more leasurly pace.

“So, ah, how was I?” Stiles asked nervously. “I mean, I know you came and all, but maybe that was just the heat or something. I wasn’t, like, too terrible, was I?”

_What!_

“Stiles you were fantastic,” Derek enthused.

_Beyond fantastic. Sublime._

“Yeah, but it was probably, like, mostly because you were in heat right?” Stiles asked. “I mean, any sex, when you’re in heat’s gotta feel fantastic.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Derek said stonely, as memories of his first time flooded his mind. He couldn’t help the way his body went rigid and defensive.

“What d’ya mean?” Stiles asked softly. Stiles took his hand of Derek’s cock for a second to run his hand along Derek’s side. It helped him relax a little.

He was quiet for a minute while he considered telling Stiles all of it. He knew Stiles wouldn’t judge him but he’d never even told the whole thing to Peter or Laura. Strangely enough, he found that he wanted to tell Stiles.

“After the fire, most of my family scattered. They were afraid. Afraid of hunters. Afraid of other packs coming in while we were weak. Just afraid. Peter is the only one besides Laura and me who wanted to stay in California, let alone Beacon Hills,” Derek explained.

“And Peter was Alpha now. You have to understand; he never wanted to be Alpha, never really liked the whole idea of pack. He was always more of a lone wolf. I think the only reason he never officially broke away and declared himself an Omega was because he really did like visiting all his nieces and nephews. So he let them leave and stayed with Laura and me.

“A few weeks after the funeral I went into heat early. Peter said it was most likely triggered by trauma from the fire. It wouldn’t have been a problem except that someone from Child Services wanted us to come for some kind of evaluation.”

“An evaluation?”

“Yeah. Even though Peter had been named our guardian in my parents’ will and he was our uncle, there was some concern about him being a fit guardian. It was back when he was still living in New York and working on Wall Street. He didn’t exactly live the kind of lifestyle that was ideal for raising kids, especially teenagers whose parents had just died, so they wanted to see it we wouldn’t be better off in a foster home.”

He still remembered the anger he’d felt at that. Peter was their uncle; the only family he and Laura had left and they wanted split them up.

“What happened?” Stiles prodded, as he tried to cuddle even closer to him.

“They wanted to interview us and set the date for it right in the middle of my heat,” he continued. “It should have been okay, I’d already gone through a few heats by that point and I should have been able to handle it, but for some reason that one hit me hard. I was too worked up and was shifting for the slightest reason. I wouldn’t have been able to make it though the interview with the social worker.”

He still hated himself for not being able to control himself.

“We’d been staying with another pack further south at the time. They weren’t really friends but the Hale name carried a lot of weight. They offered me their daughter to help me through my heat. She was only a couple of years older than me. I think they were hoping we would hit it off or I’d get her pregnant and get married to join the two packs. So they could claim some of the prestige from the Hale name to boost their standing among other werewolf packs.”

He’d hated them for that. When they’d first come to them for help, they’d looked at him with pity but that had quickly changed to greed. They were a small pack that his family had helped in the past but all they saw, when they looked at him, was the money from his parents’ life insurance and the Hale bloodline to strengthen their pack. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t interested in their daughter, or she in him, at all.

_They treated it like some kind of business transaction._

“So she was your first,” Stiles said, and Derek could almost believe he heard a hint of jealousy in his voice.

_It’s probably just the excess hormones from the heat messing with my head._

“No, she wasn’t. I’d always know I found men more attractive than women but it wasn’t until I was in heat near a willing female that I realized I had no interested in women whatsoever.”

“Bet she was pissed,” Stiles laughed.

“Relieved actually,” he replied.

“I highly doubt that, dude. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Women are always throwing themselves at you. Even straight dudes want to bone you.”

“I didn’t always look like this. I went through horrible teen years too. I didn’t start really bulking up until after the fire.”

“Right Laura mentioned something about that once. But still, no girl likes being told that you wouldn’t want to have sex with her even when you’re in heat. That’s kind of a big insult,” Stiles said with a bit of a harsh edge to his words.

“I think she had feelings for someone else,” Derek said, confused by the hurt Stiles’ words.

“Maybe. But if she wanted the Hale name so bad—”

“Her parents wanted the Hale name, she was just a teenage girl. She didn’t care about stuff like that.”

“And teenage girls love disobeying their parents. Teenage boys too,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Yeah, basically all teenagers like to rebel against the parental units. It’s kind of a cosmic law of the universe. So what happened with your heat?”

“There was another member of their pack who wasn’t mated and was gay. But he was older. Not as old as Peter but older.”

His name had been Adam. He’d been in his twenties and had no interest in Derek at all. He was one of those suave, stylish guys in expensive suits. Derek still remembered the sneer on his face when his Alpha had ordered him to knot him.

“So, he helped you though your heat.”

“Yes.”

“Was he…bad or mean?” Stiles voice was full of concern and it made his chest tighten.

“No, he was fine, just distant. Cold. He was a grown man and didn’t want to have to have sex with some kid who couldn’t control himself in his heat,” Derek said, shame coloring his words. “It just wasn’t…what I would have chosen my first time to be. We went to the interview the next day and managed to convince social services that Peter was okay to be our guardian and we went home.”

“Well it’s good you and Laura didn’t end up in the foster system but it suck that your first time had to be like that,” Stiles said and there was no pity or judgment in his voice but maybe empathy. “I can’t think of anything worse way to lose your virginity than like that.”

He couldn’t help flinching at the comment. Bile rose up in the back of his throat as self loathing gripped his insides. He squeezed his eyes closed but could almost feel Stiles’ confused stare on the back of his head then Stiles flinched too.

“Derek, you don’t think you were like that for my first time, do you?”

“The similarities are rather obvious,” he said in disgust.

“But that not true—I mean the circumstances are kinda the same but—we—I—we ate pizza and watched movies afterwards,” Stiles rambled. “You weren’t cold or—you were amazing at sex—like A+++. And you weren’t some douchebag stranger. You—I mean I—fuck Sourwolf it wasn’t the same at all.”

_I stole something special from you. Something you can never get back._

“Whatever it was, it already happened and there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Der, listen to me,” Stiles said in a serious tone. “It wasn’t the same, like, at all. You were caring and gentle. You joked with me and always make sure I was okay. I always felt safe and—and damn it Derek! I don’t think I could have had a better first time with anyone else in the universe. I don’t regret it for a second. So, you’re going to get your head out of your butt and stop feeling guilty about that. Okay?”

He was stunned for a moment as the words sunk in.

“Okay?” he said shakily.

“That didn’t sound very convincing to me,” Stiles warned.

“Okay,” he said with more conviction. “I won’t feel guilty about that anymore.”

“Okay then,” Stiles agreed

Even though he still wasn’t entirely convinced, he had to admit that the assertiveness that Stiles showed was kind of a turn on. His cock seemed to agree as it was throbbing and leaking precum yet again.

A little bit before Stiles’ knot went down, and after a few really great orgasms, Stiles brought the subject up again.

“It kinda makes sense,” Stiles randomly stated. “You going into heat after your parents died, I mean.

“How do you figure that?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Well, you were in a lot of pain—emotionally that is—and really vulnerable,” Stiles explained. “You’d just had your parents taken away from you and most of your family had abandoned you, so your wolf was, like, trying to comfort you by giving you a mate, even if it was just for your heat. You know.”

Derek had never thought of that before. Mostly, he was annoyed whenever he went into heat at inconvenient times. He’d absolutely hated it right after his parents died. To him it was just something he had to deal with, not something that really served a purpose. Peter and Laura were always trying to get him to be more outgoing and meet people to try and find a mate. It had never occurred to him that his wolf was doing the same, in it’s own way.

“I never thought about it that way,” he confessed.

The revelation was a little startling.

“Yeah, well, my brain works in odd ways sometimes,” Stiles laughed.

The laughing stopped abruptly, when they both realized that Stiles knot was going down and Derek had finally gone soft. Neither of them spoke for a minute as Stiles knot fully deflated. Stiles was still holding his softened cock in his hand. Stiles slowly pulled out of him and cum gushed out of him. Stiles moved away slightly and Derek turned around to face him, their arms and legs touching gently.

“Uh, I guess we should get cleaned up, or something,” Stiles said nervously, eyes darting around the room.

Now that his heat was over, there was no longer a reason for Stiles to stay with him. But he didn’t want Stiles to leave. He wanted the two of them to stay in this bed forever. He was gathering up his courage to ask Stiles to stay, when Stiles let out the biggest yawn he’d ever heard.

“Sorry, dude,” Stiles yawned again. “I didn’t get much sleep the last few nights. It’s catching up to me. Plus, you know, massive orgasms tend to make me sleepy afterwards.”

“I know what you mean,” Derek replied with a huge yawn of his own. “I’ve barely slept since the hunters got here.”

Stiles still hadn’t made any move to get out of the bed.

“You could take a nap with me in here,” Derek ventured cautiously. “We can shower when we wake up. Peter and Laura will wake us up, if anything happens.”

 _Please stay with me._ He inwardly begged.

He wanted to fall asleep with Stiles and wake up next to him. He also wanted his scent to soak into Stiles for a little longer before he washed it off. And he really wanted an excuse to not have to wash away Stiles’ cum for a little longer. He didn’t care if he was sticky and gross when he woke up. It would be worth it for how strong Stiles’ scent would be on him.

“That sounds like the best ideas I’ve heard in days,” Stiles said as he wiggled around and got comfortable, wrapping them up in the tatters of Derek’s sheets. If he noticed that Derek used this as an excuse to scoot a little closer to him, then he didn’t say anything about it.

Stiles was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The sounds of his soft, even breathing was hypnotic and Derek was having a hard time keep his eyes open. His mind was the clearest it had been in days, months even. He knew that Peter and Laura were right downstairs and would keep watch while they slept. He also knew that he and Stiles would need to be well rested to deal with the hunters, when they did finally strike. So, for the first time in days, he fell into a deep peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it. You can always show your appreciation by writing a comment or follow me on tumblr at LuminescentLily.tumblr.com
> 
> The next chapter will be the same events as this chapter but from Stiles' POV.


	9. Chapter 9 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Made it just in time for Monday. I know this chapter is just the same events at the last one but hopefully you'll enjoy seeing them from Stiles' POV. Also, because someone pointed this out to me recently, I want to make it absolutely clear that Peter and Laura have nothing to do with Derek going into heat. I know they were responsible for Stiles' heat in the first part of the story but this time it was Derek's own natural time for him to go into heat, plus maybe the stress of the hunters being here making his wolf push him to claim his mate like Stiles theorized. Anyways hope you like it :)

 

 

 

“Why couldn’t you have just stayed at Berkeley?” Derek’s beautiful mouth spat out.

The venom in Derek’s voice was enough to snap Stiles out of his the lust-filled fog he’d been in, since first catching Derek’s scent.

“What?” he asked confused and more than a little annoyed.

_I must be hearing things, because there is no way that Derek thinks I shouldn’t be here to help. No frickin way!_

“You should go back to Berkeley,” Derek gritted out. “You’ll only be in danger here.”

_Or not._

“Yeah, well so are you,” Stiles shouted back, even though they were right next to each other.

_What the Hell! Obviously, his heat has melted his brains._

“I know how to fight against a real opponent; you’ve yet to even beat any of us in a sparring match,” Derek’s words were harsh, but his eyes and scent were telling Stiles another story. Even arguing with Derek was getting him worked up.

“Well, right now, I’m in better shape than you are Derek!” he growled, hoping his indignation would cover the near moan he lets out. The pheromones Derek’s body is pumping out are so heady that Stiles just wants drop to his hands and knees and wiggle his ass in the air for Derek to take. That thought alone make his pants a little tighter.

_Stupid Heat. Making him smell so good, while I’m trying to be mad at him. Who the hell does he think he is? I’m just as much a part of this pack as he is._

“We can handle the hunters—”

“Like hell—”

“That’s ENOUGH!” Peter roared. Stiles jumped in surprise and looked over to his Alpha, whom he hadn’t even realized was in the room. “Both of you. Stile is here now and that’s the end of it.”

Laura was suddenly at his side, taking a hold of his arm and guiding him to the couch. He grudgingly, let her, even though his wolf was howling at being taken further away from Derek. Grumbling under his breath, he flopped down on the couch. He was pissed. Derek was supposed to be the one who’d have his back and support the idea of Stiles fighting alongside them. Derek had trained him and had always told him how good he was getting and how fast he learned.

_What if he’d been lying? What if he’s really been holding back this whole time and I’m really a terrible fighter?_

Peter’s voice interrupted that train of thought. He quickly outlined what the plan was.

“I spoke with your father earlier and he thinks he might be able to procure us some of the HEPA gas masks that the forest rangers will be using,” Peter explained. “They’ll impair our sense of smell, but they should protect us from being overwhelmed by the smoke in the air.”

“We’ll still be at a disadvantage with our hearing,” Laura spoke up.

“Unfortunately,” Peter agreed. “This is why surprise will have to be our main advantage. Once the burning starts, I’ll send the three of you out into the woods around the house so that we don’t get trapped in the house.”

Peter said it with an even voice but Stiles could hear his hear the emotion behind it. Laura shuddered beside him and he risked a quick glance at Derek still on the stairs, to see him gripping the railing like a lifeline. He could see Derek physically struggling to hold his wolf in check, as if he was ready to lash out at anyone who came too close. Stiles wanted to just walk up to the big idiot, wrap him up in a hug, and tell him it would all be okay.

Maybe there were a few other things he wanted to do besides hug him. He couldn’t help it. Even in such serious situation as they were in now, Derek was so distracting. Even without the mouthwatering pheromones practically dripping off him, Derek’s physical appearance would be enough to drive Stiles to distraction, with his muscular frame covered in a sheen of sweat and the epic sex hair he had going on. Stiles was about to make a move to get off the couch, when Peter started talking, bringing him back to the reality again.

“We are going to let the hunters make the first move. Let them come to us,” Peter stressed. “This is our territory, we know it better than anyone, and that gives us the upper hand. Now their best bet is going to be sticking together so the three of you are going to surround them on all sides as soon as they get past the tree line onto our property. Stiles will stay behind them to block their retreat. All three of you will stay out of sight until I give the signal.”

Peter’s gaze bore into him, as he said that last part and Stiles nodded in assent.

“Once they near the house, I’m going to try and speak with them.”

Stiles nearly shot out of his seat, but Laura’s hand on his arm kept him grounded. A sharp look from Peter silenced the protest that was on the tip of his tongue.

“It’s important that we try and resolve this peacefully,” Peter continued evenly. “If I can convince these young hot-heads to back down voluntarily, then the fallout of this whole situation will go much smoother. However, that doesn’t mean I’ll waltz right up to them. I’ll stay far enough away so as to give myself a way out. If they refuse to see reason or if they simply shoot first then I’ll attempt to draw them further into the woods. From there our objective will be to exhaust both their bodies and their ammunition.”

“We run them down like any other hunt,” Laura affirmed.

“With one exception,” Peter corrected. “We want them alive. If we can’t reason with them, then the next best option would be to capture them. Once we have them we can turn them over to John, with some footage of them approaching our house with whatever weapons they bring with them. He can charge them with trespassing and maybe even attempted murder. He’ll also be able to fingerprint them so we can find out which hunter family they belong to.”

“It still feels like we’re missing something,” Laura huffed, and Stiles nodded his agreement.

“Well, if we are, I still have a few backup solutions,” Peter mused.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell us what those backups are?” Laura inquired.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been in touch with an… _acquaintance_ that might be of some potential assistance to us,” Peter said cryptically.

“Someone from another pack?” Laura asked.

“Not quite,” Peter said, with a look on his face that Stiles couldn’t decipher. “But I don’t want to go into details now. For now I’ll say that this acquaintance is more of a last resort than a proper ally.”

“Well, in case your _mystery acquaintance_ doesn’t show, we should go over the details for our plan of attack,” Laura said decisively. “I assume you’ll shift into your full Alpha form for them to chase, while Derek, Stiles, and I take turns—”

“No!” Peter cut in. “Stiles will stay back and out of sight, unless absolutely necessary. Even if we do capture the hunters, I don’t want to risk them catching a good look at him.”

“What’s the advantage of having me here, if you aren’t even going to let me help?” he griped. He’d been silent up until that point because half his focus was taken up trying to hold himself back from getting up and climbing Derek like a tree, but he couldn’t sit back and let them put him in a protective bubble. Not when they needed his help.

“Don’t you get it” Derek thundered, causing Stiles to jump in surprise. “You were SAFE! The greatest protection a werewolf could have against hunters isn’t a strong pack; it’s to be completely unknown to them. As long as hunters don’t know about you they will never come after you. You’ll never have to worry about someone coming in the middle of the night to burn your family alive around you.”

Derek’s words, angry as they were, seemed to flip some sort of switch in Stiles’ mind. It suddenly occurred to him that Derek and Peter didn’t think he was weak or that he wasn’t good enough to take on the hunters. They were genuinely worried about his safety. Derek had watched his parents die and seen the rest of his family scattered and he didn’t want that to happen to Stiles. All three of them had lost their loved ones to hunters and they were terrified of that happening again.

The epiphany only made him feel like a heel. He was rushing into this like some plucky hero in a cartoon, when there were actual lives at stake. He’d been so preoccupied with worrying about Peter, Laura, or Derek getting hurt that he’d completely overlooked the danger his very human, very breakable, father would be in if hunters found out he was a werewolf as well.

It was on the tip of his tongue to offer an apology, when he noticed Derek stalking towards him. His movements were deliberate and smooth, like a jungle cat getting ready to pounce.

 _Someone as big as him shouldn’t be that graceful._ Stiles thought as he watched Derek approach him. He bit his lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from escaping.

Before he realized what he was doing, he shifted to get up from the couch, only to be blocked by Laura standing in front of him.

“Maybe you should go and take a cold shower, Der,” she uttered softly. “It might help you clear your head.”

Not waiting for Derek’s answer, she took him by the shoulders, turned him around, and pushed him towards the stairs. Stiles didn’t know if he wanted to thank her or kill her for that.

An uneasy silence falls over the room, until they heard the shower running.

“Well, he’s not doing to good,” Stiles said bluntly.

“He’ll be okay,” Peter said neutrally.

There is another awkward pause before Stiles can’t take it anymore.

“I saw one of the hunters,” he blurted out.

He winced at his own lack of tact.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged coolly.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Stiles justified. “I was grocery shopping for my dad and he was…just there! It was the youngest one, the one following Derek. He walked right by me like it was nothing at all, so I’m pretty sure your right that they don’t know about me. Also there was something really funky going on with his scent.”

“That would be the stench of wolfsbane,” Laura snarked.

“No, it was more than that,” Stiles protested. “You guys probably haven’t gotten too close to the hunters, but I was standing right next to the guy. Underneath the smell of wolfsbane, he smelled…sick.”

Something that Stiles couldn’t quite identify flickered in Peter’s eyes.

“I think you should explain what happened from the beginning,” Peter suggested.

So, Stiles explained about how the hunter had surprised him at the store, how he then followed him through the store, and how he listened in on the hunter’s call as he was leaving. He also told them all about the hunter’s strangely elevated heart rate, the weird thing with his leg, and even mentioned that the hunter on the phone was having troubles with heartburn. By the end of it Laura was looking just as confused as he felt but Peter’s face was completely emotionless.

“I think I might need to make another phone call,” Peter said cryptically, and got up and walked towards the back porch, out of hearing range. Laura seemed to take that as some sort of signal and instantly rose from her seat on the couch, saying something about running a perimeter check. That left Stiles sitting all by himself on the couch.

Being left alone with his at that moment was not a good idea for Stiles. Talking with Peter and Laura had kept his mind off of Derek for the most part. Now he had no such distraction. The fact that the house still reeked of Derek’s pheromones also didn’t help.

_God Peter and Laura are so lucky that they’re related to Derek. His pheromones have no effect on them whatsoever._

His mind was drifting into dangerous places again and he was getting hard. Just sitting there on the couch twiddling his thumbs, while Derek was right upstairs was sheer torture. Listening to the shower running, he couldn’t help picturing Derek’s hard, sculpted body standing under the water, rivulets of water running down those toned muscles.

_Why won’t he just let me help him? Am I really so repulsive that he won’t fuck me even when he’s in heat? Besides I just want to help him so we’ll be ready to face the hunters._

That last part was a total lie and he knew it. Even if there hadn’t been any hunters, he’d still jump at the chance to have sex with Derek again. He wanted Derek in every way possible, even if it was just a little taste during one of their heats. Even if it meant nothing to Derek, it would mean everything to him.

_I’ll go up and ask him. If he tells me No this time, then I’ll turn around and join Laura outside. I’ll keep my distance._

Having decided on a course of action, Stiles slipped off his shoes and sock, then jumped off the couch and stealthily made his way up the stairs. He knew how to be quiet when he needed to and he also knew the Hale House like the back of his hand, knew which steps and floorboards creaked and which ones wouldn’t make a sound in an elephant trampled on them.

He wasn’t trying to sneak up on Derek. He definitely wasn’t stalking Derek, despite what his wolf might say. He was just trying to make sure that Derek didn’t hear him, and yell at him to leave prematurely. He just needed to talk to Derek face to face, that’s all.

The sound of the shower turning off reached his ears, just as he made it to the top of the stairs. He should wait a minute for Derek to get dressed, but the scent of Derek and arousal gets stronger the closer he gets to Derek’s room. And he isn’t strong enough to resist his wolf urging him on. Maybe he could just take a peek.

Using the same stealth techniques he employed to get up the stairs, he slowly approached Derek’s door and eased it open. Unfortunately he forgot about the old door hinges that are in dire need of some oil. The creak of the door opening isn’t that loud by human standards, but for a werewolf’s hearing, he might as well have announced his presence with a megaphone.

_Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound._

Stiles took a deep breath and pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“What are you doing Stiles,” Derek asked angrily.

His heart ached at the rage in Derek’s voice but he managed to keep his heart rate steady.

_You can do this Stiles._

“You’re in heat,” Stiles answered, matter of factly. “I’m here to help.”

“No”

Even though he promised himself he’d leave if Derek turned him down, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Derek…” Stiles said uncertainly, taking a cautious step forward.

Derek responded by taking a step back, only to bump into the footboard of his bed. Trapped, he gripped the footboard with one hand and clutched his towel tighter in the other. Stiles could hear Derek’s heart rate skyrocket. He could also see how aroused Derek was. Even without noticing the obvious erection Derek was sporting under his towel, his pupils were blown wide in lust, his nipples were hardening, and he was panting.

_There’s no way he can face the hunters like this. He needs me._

“Derek,” Stiles said again, this time with confidence, as he took another deliberate step forward. “You can barely function like this. You need my help. If you won’t do it for yourself, then for the pack.”

That was a cheap shot and Stiles knew it. Derek would do anything to protect those he loved, even have sex with someone he obviously wasn’t attracted to in the slightest.

 _And what does that make me for taking advantage of him like this?_ Stiles though gloomily.

Growing bolder, Stiles approached him, his wolf yipping in excitement as he stalked towards the one he wanted to mate with. Derek stayed silent, watching as Stiles took another step closer, then another, and another, until he was standing right in front of him.

“Derek,” Stiles all but whispered, looking right into Derek’s sad, desperate eyes. “You helped me with my heat. Let me help you. _Please_.”

A small whine escaped Derek’s mouth, and he nodded.

Stiles’ wolf wanted to just pounce on Derek and let the larger wolf just take him. To be honest, the human part of Stiles wanted that as well. He knew it would be better for Derek that way as well. He should just let Derek knot him as quickly as possible, so Derek didn’t have to suffer through this anymore. But Stiles was greedy. He wanted more than that. He wanted to have every experience with him that he could. He also wanted to make it as good for Derek as Derek had made it for him during his heat.

Gingerly, he reached for Derek’s towel, going slowly, like he was approaching a skittish horse. He took hold of the edge of the towel and gently pulled it away from Derek’s body, careful to avoid skin contact. He didn’t want to risk Derek changing his mind and kicking him out.

Derek resisted for a moment, before unclenching his hand and letting the towel drop to the floor. The entire time, Stiles had been steadily watching Derek’s face for any signs of protest, but once the towel was gone, his eyes raked down Derek’s body. He barely registered Derek gripping the footboard with both hands. He was too preoccupied with the glorious sight before him. Derek had always had an impressive body as long as Stiles had known him but now he seemed even more perfect. Those perfectly sculpted abs were highlighted by small droplets of water running down his body and it took all the willpower Stiles possessed not to lean forward and capture them with is tongue.

He let his eyes drift lower, to the sprinkling of hair that started at Derek’s navel and went lower to the nest of curls that surrounded a very impressive cock. Stiles feasted on the sight of Derek’s cock, already full erect.

_Fuck, I want to taste him._

Then he sunk to his knees in front of Derek. He heard a strangled moan from Derek and looked up to at the older wolf. The look on Derek’s face could only be described as desperate.

“Jeez, you _really_ need this Sourwolf” Stiles breathed against the head of Derek’s cock and placed a steadying hand against his thigh. Derek’s cock gave twitch at his words and bead of precum formed at the tip. Stiles’ mouth watered and he licked his lips in anticipation.

_Okay Stilinski, it’s time to put all those hours of watching porn to good use._

He heard the wood of the footboard groaning and he looked back up at Derek to see his eyes closed and his head tipped back. Something feral rose up in him at seeing Derek’s throat stretched out like that but he didn’t quite understand it. All he knew was that dick was getting painfully hard in his too tight jeans.

He was about to lick up the delicious smelling precum dribbling out of Derek’s cock when a thought occurred to him.

“I’ve kinda never done this before so, like, pointers would be good, ya’know,” Stiles spoke softly. He could feel his face heating up with embarrassment.

He felt kind of pathetic. If it hadn’t been for Derek helping him though his first heat then he’d be a total virgin. But it wasn’t like he could just tell Derek that he hadn’t been with anyone else because every time he tried he felt like he was cheating on him. Derek would probably kick him out of the room and tell him that he should get over his stupid crush. He was a good person and he wouldn’t string Stiles along with false hope. No, Derek would tell him flat out that there was no chance of them being together and ask him to leave so that he didn’t think he was leading him on.

Stiles couldn’t let that happen. He had to at least have this one last time with him. So darted forward and licked the head of Derek’s cock. He wasn’t entirely sure if the moan of pleasure he heard came from Derek or himself but either way it encouraged him to continue. Derek’s precum tasted like nothing he’d ever imagined before. He’d read online that cum was supposed to taste bitter and salty. To be fair it did taste like that, but it was so much more. It was…it was…Derek. Like it contained a little bit of everything that made up Derek and Stiles wanted more.

He started licking all around Derek’s cock to get more of his taste, before he remembered to try some of the things he’d seen some of the porn he’d watched. Careful to cover his teeth with his lips, he took the head of Derek’s cock into his mouth and sucked. Once he got comfortable with that he started taking more of Derek into his mouth. Stiles had thought about sucking someone’s dick before and had even done a lot of research—watching porn—about it. He had been prepared for how to wrap his lips around it and how it would fill his mouth, but he hadn’t realized how heavy Derek’s cock would feel on his tongue. Not that it was a bad thing. Not at all.

It was both strange and exhilarating. On the one hand it was kind of odd to have something in his mouth and not be chewing on it, but on the other hand he felt intoxicating to know that he was actually giving Derek Hale a blowjob. He’d heard tons of girls and even some guys complain about how degrading it was to give someone a blow job but he didn’t feel that way at all. Instead he felt…powerful. He had Derek moaning and writhing just from the touch of his mouth. He was in total control here. How much or how little pleasure Derek got was completely up to him and it felt awesome. Just the fact that someone like him could turn someone like Derek into a moaning shaking mess incredible. Stiles thought he might even like giving a blowjob better than receiving one, as long as it was with Derek. Even though his dick was rubbing painfully against his zipper in his pants, it still didn’t distract from the rush he got from having Derek completely at his mercy.

Soon Stiles was taking Derek even further into his mouth. He placed his free hand on Derek’s hip so that he could have better leverage to try and swallow Derek all the way to the base. He got a little too confident in his abilities and nearly choked himself. He pulled off quickly but instantly regretted it when he heard Derek let out a high-pitched whine. With determination, he took Derek’s cock back into his mouth.

He knew he knew he wasn’t exactly giving the best head in the world. He was drooling all over the place and he might have accidentally gotten Derek with is teeth a few times but he tried to judge what worked by the blissed-out look on Derek’s face and the noises he made. Peter and Laura could probably hear everything that was going on as well. He would never admit that he got a huge thrill from being able to wring such sweet sounds out of Derek, while they could hear. His wolf loved the idea that they could hear how good he was making Derek feel.

Stile could admit to himself that he was a little fascinated with Derek’s foreskin. He’d been circumcised when he was a baby so he had always been curious. He kept running his tongue along the underside of it and around he slit. From the mewls of pleasure he figured that Derek enjoyed it when he played with it as well.

“Stiles,” Derek gasped. “I’m close. So close.”

Humming in acknowledgment, he pulled back until just the head of Derek’s cock was still in his mouth. Another high pitched whine escaped Derek’s mouth, before Stiles took his hand off his thigh and started to stroke him. Stiles would have loved nothing more than to swallow Derek down to the base and have him cum down his throat but he knew he wasn’t skilled enough for that yet. And he couldn’t think of anything worse than puking all over Derek while trying to give his first blowjob.

Soon, Derek was cumming, shooting that exquisite liquid into his mouth. It was fucking ambrosia, as far as Stiles was concerned. While trying to concentrate on stroking Derek though his orgasm, he attempted to swallow every drop, but some of it still escaped around the corners of his mouth.

When Stiles did finally pull back, a string of saliva and cum still connected Stiles’ mouth to Derek’s cock. It broke, when he licked his lips, catching all drool and cum around his mouth.

He was about to ask how he did, when he heard Derek moaning. Whipping his head up, he locked gazes with Derek. The look in his eyes sent shivers down Stiles’ spine.

“We should—bed. I mean, you—I—where’s your lube?” Stiles rambled, his voice a little rough.

“Bedside drawer,” Derek gasped.

Stiles immediately scrambled to his feet, though his movements were clumsy and awkward. It might have had something to do with the throbbing erection in his pants. Giving Derek a blowjob had been, hands down, one of the sexiest things Stiles had ever experienced in his life, and that included being knotted by Derek. His jeans felt like some kind of sick torture device and he just knew that there was a wet spot forming from all the precum that was leaking out of his dick.

Rummaging through the bedside drawer, he located the lube and spun around to face the bed.

“Okay, I got the lube and…” Stiles trailed off and actually dropped the lube.

The sight before him was enough to make his heart skip a beat. Derek had positioned himself of his hands and knees on the bed, with his legs spread for Stiles to mount him. Most of Stiles’ sexual fantasies usually involved him bottoming. He loved the idea of someone—Derek—dominating him but that didn’t mean he’d never thought about topping. He just never imagined in a million years that he would actually get to do it and with Derek of all people. Derek was pretty much the ideal image of a power top. That didn’t stop his wolf from going wild at the prospect.

“Derek, you—I thought—I mean don’t you,” Stiles voice choked out in shock.

“It’s better this way,” Derek gritted out. “I won’t be able to control myself. It’s better if you take charge.”

His heart dropped a little at the thought that he didn’t really want to bottom for Stiles. Hell, from the harshness of his voice, it sounded like he was actually fighting his wolf to let Stiles top.

_Okay, no pressure._

“Right, okay then, I’ll just…” Stiles trailed off as he began hastily discard his clothing. His shirt got stuck on his head for a moment but he managed to yank it off. When he got to his pants, he sighed with relief as his dick sprang free. Then he grabbed the fallen lube and climbed onto the bed.

When he was positioned behind Derek, he took a second to appreciate the magnificent sight before him. Derek’s perfectly toned form was quivering and he watched as Derek canted his hips to raise his ass enticingly for him. He nearly howled aloud in joy but managed to suppress it to a strangled moan.

“Are you sure you want me to—cause I might not be that good,” Stiles admitted meekly. “I haven’t really done this before. Haven’t done anything since…us.”

He was really glad that Derek couldn’t see the full body blush that admission caused. For his part Derek just groaned seductively.

“I’m sure Stiles, just fuck me.”

“Okay—I’ll just—lube.”

_Get it together Stilinski. This is good. You are actually getting to top DEREK HALE. Now you just have to make this the best sex he’s ever had so that he’ll never want to be with anyone else but you ever again. That shouldn’t be too hard. Right?_

Stiles popped open the lube cap and squirted a liberal amount onto a few fingers. Then he looked back up to Derek. He still couldn’t believe that Derek was actually on his hands and knees, panting, and waiting for Stiles to take him. Without thinking, he took his non-lubed up hand and lightly trailed it down Derek’s back, starting at his tattoo and going all the way down to the firm curve of his ass. He couldn’t help himself; he just had to touch him.

Next, he gently spread Derek’s ass cheeks to reveal his entrance. His cock twitched at the sight of it and he just wanted to bury himself deep inside of Derek. But he also wanted to make this good for Derek. Wanted it to be something he’d never forget. An idea popped into his head. He’d heard about it before and even watched a few videos of it. At the time it had seemed a little gross but being here, with Derek and breathing in his heady scent, he thought that it sounded like a great idea.

_He did just get out of the shower after all._

Making up his mind, he leaned forward and ran his tongue along Derek’s hole.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled, tensing up.

“Hmmm” Stiles hummed as he continued flicking his tongue over Derek’s hole.

_Does he not like it? Does he think it’s weird? Should I stop?_

He started to panic but he couldn’t stop circling his tongue around Derek’s rim. He tasted just as good here as his cock did. Judging from Derek’s garbled moans and the fresh wave of arousal he smelled, Stiles figured that Derek was enjoying it and kept going. Soon he had wiggled his tongue past the rim, while he used one hand to knead his ass cheek. He heard the sounds of fabric ripping and felt smug in the knowledge that he was making Derek loose control and wolf out.

When he couldn’t get his tongue in any further on its own, he added one of his lubed up fingers to help open Derek up some. Another finger was quickly added after the first. The taste of the lube was horrible but it was worth it to be able to get his tongue even further inside of Derek, especially, when Derek started pushing back to get more of him.

Stiles kept scissoring his fingers wider and curling them to try and find Derek’s prostate. He was shocked, when all he had to do was brush it one to have Derek cumming all over the bed beneath him.

“Fuck that was hot,” Stiles said breathlessly, as he squeezed the base of his own dick to keep from coming.

Derek whined again at the loss of his tongue and Stiles thought he could easily become addicted to that sound. He added another finger to make up for the loss.

The sight of Derek’s hole swallowing his fingers mesmerized him. It felt so hot and tight; he could only imagine how great it would feel around his cock.

“Iss good,” Derek slurred. “Iss ‘nuff. Get in me.”

“Are you sure? Last time you used four fingers—”

“Stiles just fuck me already,” he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.

“Yeah, okay. Let me just…”

Stiles quickly pulled his fingers out and fumbled for the lube. Squirting a huge amount of the cold liquid onto his dick, he shuddered. The cold did a little bring him back from the edge and he quickly slicked himself up. He didn’t take too long because he was pretty sure he was worked up enough to come from just a few good pulls. He didn’t want Derek to have to wait for him to get hard again to get relief from his heat—though it would probably only take him a few seconds to get hard again with all the pheromones Derek’s body was pumping into the air. And Stiles really wanted to cum inside of him.

“Okay, so, I’m just gonna—”

“Stop talking about it and do it,” Derek half demanded, half begged.

Stiles smirked in spite of himself. Somehow he always knew that, if Derek ever did bottom, he’d be a pushy bottom.

_As if that doesn't just make him sexier._

He grabbed onto Derek’s hips, the skin was hot and sweaty, and lined himself up with Derek’s entrance. Derek was panting and shaking and the way he arched his back told Stiles that he was just as eager for it as he was. He gripped Derek’s hips harder and ever so slowly; he pushed into Derek’s tight heat.

Words couldn’t describe how incredible it felt. Inch by inch Derek’s body devoured him in a tight, clenching heat. Once he was buried in Derek to the hilt, he had to pause. It took everything he had not to cum. He could barely breath, it felt so good. Then just as slowly he began to pull back out. He almost cried at the loss of the beautiful warmth squeezing around him but he had to do this right.

“Stiles, please, just cum,” Derek begged. “It doesn’t need to last. Fuck! I need your knot. I need it Stiles, please.”

“I will,” Stiles promised. “I’ll give you my knot but I wanna make it good for you.”

_Need to make it good for you. Have to show you how good we could be together._

If Derek had kept begging him like that he would have cum, but as he started thrusting, Derek’s words dissolved into incomprehensible sounds and moans. And he was loud. Stiles was pretty sure that even without werewolf hearing, Peter and Laura would have been able to hear Derek a mile away. His wolf preened at that, so did the human part of him.

His first few thrusts were clumsy but he soon found his rhythm. He tried to make sure he hit Derek’s prostate but it was all he could do to concentrate on moving his hips and not cumming.

He was surprised, when felt an odd sensation at the base of his cock, before he realized that it was his knot starting to form. This was the first time he’d ever felt it. A werewolf’s knot didn’t form every time he came, only when he was penetrating someone else to breed them, so he’d never felt it before.

“Oh God—Oh Shit! Derek, I’m not gonna last. Fuck! You’re so tight—Shit your ass is perfect. I’m gonna love cumming in that sweet ass!”

“Yes, Stiles! Cum in me. Knot me! Fill me!”

His thrust got even more erratic after that, as he struggled to hold out as long as possible.

“Harder Stiles! Please God, HARDER!”

“Fuck! Derek!”

His knot really started to form then, and his thrust started getting shorter and harder. He also bent forward and draped his body over Derek’s back and started tracing his tattoo with his tongue, like he’d always wanted to.

Soon, Stiles’ knot was fully formed and locked inside of Derek. It was amazing. It felt like somehow his prostate had moved to the base of his dick and Derek’s tight hole was squeezing it mercilessly. Pleasure was shooting up his spine as he continued grinding into Derek in a rocking motion. He was desperate to cum but he wanted Derek to cum first. Reaching around, he palmed Derek’s erection and gave it one good tug. He was rewarded with a rapturous howl from Derek as the older wolf’s entire body clenched and came all over Stiles’ hand.

Then Derek moved his neck to the side, offering that sweet expanse of throat to Stiles. His wolf wanted to sink its teeth into that unmarked skin but Stiles held back. He remembered a few times, when he’d bitten Derek playfully and the older wolf had freaked out. Stiles knew there was something going on that he didn’t understand but whatever it was he could figure out later. At that moment his orgasm hit him like a truck and his howl of release joined Derek’s.

He was a little ashamed that he ended up collapsing on top of Derek but he was so drained that he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. Even with werewolf strength, what he’d just gone through was just too intense. He felt light headed and tingly and absolutely perfect. He blacked out for a moment and, when he came back to himself, Derek had managed to reposition them both on their sides and away from the wet spot.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! That was—that was—Fuck Der, that was incredible.” Stiles panted and pressed himself completely against Derek’s backside, wrapping an arm around his waist protectively.

He heard that low purr-like growl that Derek had made last time and nuzzled the back of his neck affectionately. Stiles could still feel himself cumming deep inside of Derek. He’d thought that when he knotted someone that he’d just have one big orgasm and then he would just come down from it like normal. Well, he definitely had the biggest orgasm of his life but he didn’t feel like he was coming down from it. Instead, it felt like he was having continuous smaller orgasms that weren’t as mind-blowing as the first but still kept him a blissful haze.

He noticed that Derek was shifted back to human again and also that he was hard. Not wanting to waste any opportunity to touch Derek some more, he quickly wrapped his hand around Derek’s cock and began to stroke, using some of Derek’s cum to slick things up a bit.

“Stiles,” Derek gasped. “You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough.”

“Just shut up and enjoy it, Sourwolf,” Stiles said cheerfully. His near constant state of orgasm giving him a big confidence boost.

Giving Derek a hand job was much simpler than giving him a blowjob. He’d had tons of practice on himself and from his angle behind Derek it almost was like jerking himself off. Soon he had Derek moaning and panting again.

“Fuck Stiles! Do that again!”

He got Derek to cum again in just a few minutes, then decided to take the next one a little slower and really enjoy getting to have Derek like this.

They stayed like that for a little while, with Stiles lazily stroking Derek’s cock, when doubt began to creep into Stiles’ mind. He didn’t have the greatest self-esteem for a teenage boy and the fact that Derek hadn’t really said anything yet was causing him some concern. Had Derek enjoyed it? He knew Derek had cum—multiple times—but was that because of Stiles or just because he was in heat. It took him a few minutes more to gather up the courage to ask.

“So, ah, how was I?” Stiles asked nervously. “I mean, I know you came and all, but maybe that was just the heat or something. I wasn’t, like, too terrible, was I?”

“Stiles you were fantastic,” Derek enthused and Stiles could almost convince himself that it was genuine.

“Yeah, but it was probably, like, mostly because you were in heat right?” Stiles asked. “I mean, any sex, when you’re in heat, has gotta feel fantastic.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Derek said stonily, and something in his tone and the way he tensed up got Stiles’ attention.

“What d’ya mean?” Stiles asked softly. He took his hand of Derek’s cock for a second to run his hand along Derek’s side. It helped Derek relax a little.

Derek was quiet for a minute and Stiles was almost positive that he wasn’t going to answer, when he spoke up.

“After the fire, most of my family scattered. They were afraid. Afraid of hunters. Afraid of other packs coming in while we were weak. Just afraid. Peter is the only one besides Laura and me who wanted to stay in California, let alone Beacon Hills,” Derek explained.

Stiles already knew that but he kept quiet. Derek didn't speak about that time in his life very often, so Stiles wasn't going to blow this chance to hear about it.

“And Peter was Alpha now. You have to understand; he never wanted to be Alpha, never really liked the whole idea of pack. He was always more of a lone wolf. I think the only reason he never officially broke away and declared himself an Omega was because he really did like visiting all his nieces and nephews. So he let them leave and stayed with Laura and me.

“A few weeks after the funeral I went into heat early. Peter said it was most likely triggered by trauma from the fire. It wouldn’t have been a problem except that someone from Child Services wanted us to come for some kind of evaluation.”

“An evaluation?” Stile asked. Stiles knew procedures like that from his dad’s work. Obviously, they passed whatever evaluation they had to go through, but Stiles go the feeling that he wasn’t going to like where this story was going.

“Yeah. Even though Peter had been named our guardian in my parents’ will and he was our uncle, there was some concern about him being a fit guardian. It was back when he was still living in New York and working on Wall Street. He didn’t exactly live the kind of lifestyle that was ideal for raising kids, especially teenagers whose parents had just died, so they wanted to see it we wouldn’t be better off in a foster home.”

Derek fell silent again.

“What happened?” Stiles prodded, as he tried to cuddle even closer to him, as if he could snuggle all Derek’s problems away.

“They wanted to interview us and set the date for it right in the middle of my heat,” he continued. “It should have been okay, I’d already gone through a few heats by that point and I should have been able to handle it, but for some reason that one hit me hard. I was too worked up and was shifting for the slightest reason. I wouldn’t have been able to make it though the interview with the social worker.”

“We’d been staying with another pack further south at the time. They weren’t really friends but the Hale name carried a lot of weight. They offered me their daughter to help me through my heat. She was only a couple of years older than me. I think they were hoping we would hit it off or I’d get her pregnant and get married to join the two packs. So they could claim some of the prestige from the Hale name to boost their standing among other werewolf packs.”

_Assholes!_

Stiles definitely didn’t like where this story was going.

“So she was your first,” Stiles said, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

“No, she wasn’t. I’d always know I found men more attractive than women but it wasn’t until I was in heat near a willing female that I realized I had no interested in women whatsoever.”

“Bet she was pissed,” Stiles laughed in relief.

“Relieved actually,” Derek replied.

“I highly doubt that, dude. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Women are always throwing themselves at you. Even straight dudes want to bone you.”

_I know because I see every one of them and I have to stop myself from ripping their stupid faces off._

“I didn’t always look like this. I went through horrible teen years too. I didn’t start really bulking up until after the fire.”

“Right Laura mentioned something about that once. But still, no girl likes being told that you wouldn’t want to have sex with her even when you’re in heat. That’s kind of a big insult,” Stiles said with a bit of a harsh edge to his words.

Stiles hadn’t meant for the words to come out like that but it was too close to the hurt he’d felt about being in the same situation.

 “I think she had feelings for someone else,” Derek said.

“Maybe. But if she wanted the Hale name so bad—”

“Her parents wanted the Hale name, she was just a teenage girl. She didn’t care about stuff like that.”

 “And teenage girls love disobeying their parents. Teenage boys too,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Yeah, basically all teenagers like to rebel against the parental units. It’s kind of a cosmic law of the universe. So what happened with your heat?”

“There was another member of their pack who wasn’t mated and was gay. But he was older. Not as old as Peter but older.”

Stiles only just managed to suppress a jealous growl, though he did curl around Derek more possessively.

“So, he helped you though your heat.”

“Yes.”

“Was he…bad or mean?” Stiles voice was full of concern.

_If he hurt you, I’ll hunt him down and kill him._

“No, he was fine, just distant. Cold. He was a grown man and didn’t want to have to have sex with some kid who couldn’t control himself in his heat,” Derek said. “It just wasn’t…what I would have chosen my first time to be. We went to the interview the next day and managed to convince social services that Peter was okay to be our guardian and we went home.”

At first, Stiles didn’t know what to say so he just hugged Derek closer and willed him to feel the comforting vibes he was sending out. He wished he could do something for Derek. Wished he could just go back and time and take all his troubles away.

“Well it’s good you and Laura didn’t end up in the foster system but it suck that your first time had to be like that,” Stiles said, trying to comfort Derek. “I can’t think of anything worse way to lose your virginity than like that.”

Derek flinched at that last part. Stiles was confused for a moment, before what he said clicked in his head and he flinched too.

“Derek, you don’t think you were like that for my first time, do you?”

“The similarities are rather obvious,” Derek said in disgust.

“But that not true—I mean the circumstances are kinda the same but—we—I—we ate pizza and watched movies afterwards,” Stiles rambled. “You weren’t cold or—you were amazing at sex—like A+++. And you weren’t some douchebag stranger. You—I mean I—fuck Sourwolf it wasn’t the same at all.”

_How could you even think that? I love you, you big idiot. Even if you don’t feel the same._

“Whatever it was, it already happened and there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Der, listen to me,” Stiles said in a serious tone. He desperately needed Derek to understand that he wasn’t anything like that other asshole. “It wasn’t the same, like, at all. You were caring and gentle. You joked with me and always make sure I was okay. I always felt safe and—and damn it Derek! I don’t think I could have had a better first time with anyone else in the universe. I don’t regret it for a second. So, you’re going to get your head out of your butt and stop feeling guilty about that. Okay?”

_Please don’t feel guilty about that. You already carry so much guilt that isn’t yours. I can’t add more to it._

Derek didn’t speak and, for a moment, Stiles was afraid that he’d said too much. That Derek had figured out how much he really felt for him and he was trying to think of some way to let him down easy.

“Okay?” Derek said shakily.

“That didn’t sound very convincing to me,” Stiles warned, hope welling up in his chest.

“Okay,” he said with more conviction. “I won’t feel guilty about that anymore.”

Stiles listened to his heartbeat and he was telling the truth. Tension drained from his body.

“Okay then,” he agreed.

Stiles might have pressed the issue a little more, if he hadn’t noticed Derek’s cock was twitching and leaking precum again. Instead, he rolled his hips against Derek’s ass to really grind his knot into Derek’s prostate and started stroking him again.

A little while later, before Stiles’ knot went down, an idea popped into his head.

“It kinda makes sense,” Stiles randomly stated. “You going into heat after your parents died, I mean.

“How do you figure that?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Well, you were in a lot of pain—emotionally that is—and really vulnerable,” Stiles explained. “You’d just had your parents taken away from you and most of your family had abandoned you, so your wolf was, like, trying to comfort you by giving you a mate, even if it was just for your heat. You know.”

The older wolf was silent again, but Stiles could tell it was a good silent. It was a ‘I’m thinking this over’ silent, not a ‘I’m mad at you’ silent. Stiles was pretty good at tell Derek’s moods by now.

“I never thought about it that way,” Derek confessed. And he seemed a little bit happier about the idea.

“Yeah, well, my brain works in odd ways sometimes,” Stiles laughed, glad that he could make a crappy time in Derek’s life seem a little less crappy.

The laughing stopped abruptly, when they both realized that Stiles knot was going down and Derek had finally gone soft. Neither of them spoke for a minute as Stiles knot fully deflated. Stiles was still holding his softened cock in his hand.

Was it weird that Stiles didn’t want to let go of Derek’s cock? He didn’t want to make him cum again. He just liked holding it. Still, Derek would probably think it was weird. As soon as his knot was small enough, he pulled out of Derek and rolled onto his back. His wolf growled at him moving away and urged him to curl back up next to Derek. He was tempted too. The sight and smell of his cum gushing out of Derek was bringing a lot of possessive instincts in him to the surface. Instead, Derek turned around to face him, their arms and legs touching gently.

“Uh, I guess we should get cleaned up, or something,” Stiles said nervously, eyes darting around the room.

Derek probably didn’t want him here now that his heat was over, especially after that whole confession thing.

He was about to get out of bed, when the biggest yawn in the history of yawns burst out of his mouth. He hadn’t slept in day and he’d just had crazy mind-blowing sex, with an hour long orgasm, so it only made sense that his body was ready to just shut down and sleep.

“Sorry, dude,” Stiles yawned again. “I didn’t get much sleep the last few nights. It’s catching up to me. Plus, you know, massive orgasms tend to make me sleepy afterwards.”

“I know what you mean,” Derek replied with a huge yawn of his own. “I’ve barely slept since the hunters got here.”

Stiles still hadn’t made any move to get out of the bed.

“You could take a nap with me in here,” Derek ventured cautiously. “We can shower when we wake up. Peter and Laura will wake us up, if anything happens.”

Hope welled up in him. Did Derek really mean that? Did he want Stiles to stay here with him? It wasn’t like Stiles didn’t have his own room at the Hale house that he could sleep in. But they had just had sex and Derek was offering to let him sleep in the same bed, letting the scent of them soak in until morning. His wolf was howling in joy at the idea and the human part of him wanted it as well. Wanted to go to sleep next to Derek and wake up next him in the morning. He wanted that for the rest of his life.

“That sounds like the best ideas I’ve heard in days,” Stiles said as he wiggled around and got comfortable, wrapping them up in the tatters of Derek’s sheets. If he used this as an excuse to scoot a little closer to Derek, then it was just to avoid sleeping in the wet spot. It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to be closer to Derek. Nope. Nothing at all.

He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, with the scent of him and the man he wanted as his mate filling his nose and his strong, steady heartbeat in his ears.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up the showdown with the hunters. Sorry but the next chapter might take longer than normal for me to post. My nephews birthday is coming up and my mom decided to drop in for a suprise visit, so I might not have as much time to write as I normally do.
> 
> Comments and Critiques are always welcome or you can follow me on tumblr at LuminescentLily.tumblr.com


	10. Chapter 10 Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize to all my readers for taking so long to post this chapter. I must have rewritten it at least four times and changed major plot points at least a dozen more. That and it just became so long I actually split it up into two chapters, so the next one will be from Derek's POV as well. It still feels a little awkward and forced in some places. I also skipped sending it to my Beta reader because it's been over a month since I've updated this story and I felt like I should just post it immediately. Hope you guys like it.

Derek awoke slowly, reluctant to leave the warm, safe clutches of sleep. He felt peaceful and light, even with the weight of another person on top of him. And not just any person, his mind coyly informed him. Stiles! Stiles was in his bed. Stiles was sleeping next to him, half on top of him. They had shifted positions during the night, so that Stiles was lying serenely in his arms, head resting just over his heart, and draped over him like a living blanket.

He’d never been more comfortable and relaxed in his entire life. Not even the itchiness of dried cum on his skin or the pins-and-needles feeling of his arm being asleep from Stiles’ weight could burst the bubble of euphoria he was in.

And for the first time in days he didn’t smell the phantom smoke that had plagued him since the hunters’ arrival. All he could smell was contentment and sex and the two of them. The intoxicating amalgamation of Stiles-and-Derek or Derek-and-Stiles, was like heaven on his sense of smell. Their two scents blended together seamlessly, in a heady aroma that Derek couldn’t get enough of.

It was still early, the sun was only just coming up, but he felt energetic and hyper aware of everything. Yet, he was perfectly calm and relaxed. It was surreal.

Contrary to popular believe, Derek was not a morning person by nature. Before the fire, he’d always slept in until the latest possible moment on school days, going through alarm clocks like tissues, from smashing down the snooze button so hard and so often. Once he grew out of Saturday Morning Cartoons, he rarely saw the a.m. hours on weekends and on mornings after a full moon run with the pack, not even his mother’s Alpha commands could have gotten him out of bed, before one or two in the afternoon.

After the fire, he’d changed drastically. Sleep was a vulnerable time and as such was limited to as few hours as possible. He’d also started on a vigorous training routine that had included waking up before dawn to go on runs. Most mornings, he was still groggy and tired when he woke up, sheer force-of-will being the only thing that got him moving, at least until the adrenalin from his training kicked in.

But waking up next to Stiles he felt…alive!

A few rays of sunlight pierced into the room, through the blinds, landing directly onto the two of them. Stiles shifted in his sleep and nuzzled further into Derek’s chest, to escape the offending light. Looking down, he was mesmerized by the sight that greeted him. He’d always found Stiles attractive, but looking at him now, Derek thought that he’d never seen anything more amazing. The gentle morning light made Stiles’ creamy skin seem to glow. Tousled hair framed a face that was perfectly relaxed and those gorgeous plump lips of his were slightly parted, sending soft puffs of breath across Derek’s chest.

It might have been excess endorphins in his brain from last night making him loopy, but he doubted it. It was more than just the sex from last night and the physical contact this morning. He felt like some ominous weight had lifted off his soul. He’d told things to Stiles last night that he’d never told anyone—not even Peter or Laura—about. For years he’d been so ashamed of his lack of control, when he was younger, and embarrassed of the way he lost his virginity. He thought for sure that people would ridicule him for it. But not Stiles. Stiles had been full of righteous anger at Adam and comfort for Derek. Just the thought of how Stiles kept hugging him tighter as he revealed the truth made his heart flutter. And it really did make him feel better to finally tell someone.

Then Stiles surprised him further by just refusing to let him feel guilty about what happened during the younger wolf’s first heat. Even if Stiles hadn’t accepted his claiming bite, he at least didn’t feel ashamed and disgusted by his first time like Derek did. That was another huge weight off Derek’s conscience and it was all thanks to Stiles.

Growing bold, he brought his hand up and tenderly brushed the tips of his fingers along Stiles’ smooth cheek. Stiles just murmured in his sleep and leaned in to Derek’s touch. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. It was a perfect moment and not even the small pool of Stiles’ drool forming on his chest could spoil it for him.

“Ahem”

His head jerked up to see Laura standing in the doorway, two mugs of tea in her hands. He’d been so preoccupied in admiring Stiles’ beautiful face that he hadn’t even heard her come up the stairs. An affectionate smile graced her face and it tugged at his heart. His mother used to smiles just like that. Usually, when one of them had just done something special, like getting an A on a math test or when they’d first learned how to control their wolf on the full moon.

He hadn’t seen that smile in a long time.

“I brought you two some tea,” she all but whispered, raising the steaming mugs slightly. “But I guess I’ll let him sleep a little longer. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes so don’t be too long.”

Not wanting to risk waking Stiles just yet, he just nodded and watched as she turned and left.

They should get up. Today was the day the hunters attacked, they needed to be ready. But it was hard to imagine something bad happening at that moment. It was like he was in a perfect little bubble of happiness. He was safe in his bed curled up next to the person he was head over heels in love with, while the rest of his pack was downstairs making breakfast. He could even smell the eggs, bacon, and fresh cinnamon rolls cooking. It was normal and perfect and it just felt so right. He wanted to stay like this forever.

Any danger seemed so far away.

_But that was how it felt right before the fire as well._

That thought was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head.

“Stiles,” he said, shaking him slightly.

No response.

“Stiles wake up,” he said louder.

“Isss sstoo early,” Stiles slurred, trying to burrow further into Derek’s chest.

“Stiles,” Derek said, managing to keep his tone serious, despite wanting to coo as Stiles’ behavior. “Stiles we have to get up. The hunters will be here today.”

“Hunters!” Stiles yelped, as he shot up, flailing around like a fish out of water, and probably would have fallen out of the bed entirely, if it weren’t for Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Stiles calm down,” Derek said, trying to not laugh, as he watched Stiles’ glowing eyes dart around the room, looking for potential threats. “The hunters aren’t here yet.”

“I knew that,” Stiles laughed nervously, his eyes returning to their normal caramel color. “I was just…”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as he looked down to where their bodies were practically wrapped around each other. A strong urge to pull Stiles even closer rose up in him but was quickly dampened, when he smelled Stiles’ embarrassment.

“We moved around some in our sleep,” Derek explained, quickly detangling himself from Stiles, even though his wolf whined in protest.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that dude,” Stiles gave another nervous laugh. “I, ah, kinda only have two sleep setting—starfish or strangling octopus. Looks like you got the strangling octopus.”

“Well, at least you didn’t kick me in your sleep,” he said with a grin, trying to put Stiles at ease.

“Yeah, thank God for small miracles,” Stiles said a little more calmly.

There was an awkward pause in the conversation. It was a little unnerving, considering Stiles usually never shut up.

_Is he regretting last night? I should say something to make it less awkward. But what?_

“Peter and Laura are cooking breakfast downstairs,” he said, hating himself for sounding like an idiot for stating the obvious. “But you could probably already smell that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “It smells awesome.”

“We should—”

“Shower!” Stiles started babbling. “We should definitely shower before we go down and eat. I mean they can probably smell us from downstairs but we don’t have to rubs their noses in it. Wow, I just realized how much that sounded like a bad dog joke—which I totally didn’t do on purpose—I just meant—”

“Stiles!” Derek interrupted. “I know what you meant.”

_You’re embarrassed about us being together and you can’t wait to wash my scent off of you._

He got out of bed and stomped towards his dresser to get some clothes. It was amazing that he didn’t have whiplash at how fast his mood had gone from blissful to dismal in the space of a few moments.

“You can take my shower,” he grunted out. “I’ll use Laura’s.”

It was a desperate play, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted his scent on Stiles and having the younger wolf use his soap was the only option he could think of at the moment.

He grabbed some clothes and dashed out of his room towards Laura’s bathroom.

 _Stupid!_ He chastised himself. _What did you thing would happen? That he’d wake up and greet you with a good morning kiss? He was just helping you with your Heat so we could face the hunters. After this, he’ll go back to college and find someone he really wants to be with._

Not even waiting for the water to heat up, he turned on the shower and stepped under the icy spray. Washing lightly, he tried to keep as much of Stiles’ scent on him as possible without seeming like he didn’t wash at all. Stiles’ scent would cling to him for days but he wanted to keep it as strong as possible. Later, he could claim that he just didn’t like the scent of Laura’s soap. It wasn’t a complete lie.

A few minutes later, he got out and dried himself off. He hadn’t paid much attention to the clothes he grabbed when he ran out of his room but it’s not like he had to worry about picking something out that didn’t match. Most of his clothes were solid, dark tone colors that were interchangeable with everything else in his closet. Stiles, Laura, and even Peter were constantly teasing him about his limited wardrobe but it came in handy in times like these.

Slipping on a dark grey Henley and a pair of jeans he made his way out into the hallway. The water was still running in his bathroom so he didn’t have to worry about having another awkward moment alone with Stiles. He should have waited for Stiles to finish his shower and talk with him. He should have talked to him right when they woke up. But, when it came to emotions, he was a coward. Bring on the hunters, rival packs, or anything else the world wanted to throw at him and he’d be fine. But ask him to just tell the object of his affections how he really felt, and he was a mess.

So, instead of waiting, he headed down the stairs and to the kitchen where Laura was dividing up the food onto plates. She flashed him a brilliant smile, when he entered the kitchen, then it quickly vanished, only to be replaced by an inquisitive look at his grim demeanor. He shook his head wearily and slumped down into a chair. Rubbing his hand over his face, he avoided the judging face Laura was undoubting giving him. When he did finally look up, she gave him an exasperated look, as if Stiles’ lack of feelings for him was his fault.

_Maybe it is. Maybe if I tried to be more outgoing, like Laura, or more talkative, like Peter, maybe then he’d be more attracted to me._

Derek didn’t have time brood on that train of thought, as the sounds of Stiles trampling down the stairs and towards the kitchen reached his ears. Shooting him one last irritated look, Laura thankfully turned back to the food just as Stiles entered the kitchen, with Derek’s scent still clinging to his skin. He paused for the tiniest moment, before taking his usual seat next to Derek. Though he managed to keep his heart rate under check, Stiles’ hesitation to be near him had hurt.

“So, where’s Peter,” Stiles asked.

“He’s outside, on the phone with his _acquaintance_ ,” Laura huffed. As Alpha heir, she was used to being kept in on the loop of information, especially things that the rest of the pack was kept out of. It annoyed her, more than it could possibly bother Derek, that Peter wasn’t telling her everything. Prudently, he and Stiles remained silent on the subject, as Laura brought the plates of food over to the table.

“Wow, you really went all out on breakfast,” Stiles observed happily, as he loaded up his plate with a mountain of eggs, a good portion of bacon, and no less than four cinnamon rolls.

“Well, considering this could be our last meal, I figured I should put in a little extra effort,” Laura said dryly.

“Now, now,” Peter said, entering the kitchen. “Let’s not be melodramatic. We’re going to be fine. We’re on our guard this time.”

A pensive silence fell over the room and they all busied themselves by eating breakfast.

Since it was obvious that Derek hadn’t paid any attention to the battle plan last night, Peter took a moment and briskly outlined what he had explained to Stiles last night about their general plan of attack. He was a little uneasy about the idea of Peter confronting the Hunters alone, but he wholeheartedly approved of Peter’s decision to keep Stiles back and out of sight.

“I still think I should be a bigger part of their strategy,” Stiles griped. “I have enough control to be able to be an asset in a fight.”

“Except we don’t know how you’ll do under the conditions caused by the burning,” Derek spoke up. “Last year you could barely leave your house, and that was in town. Now, you’ll be so much closer and it will be twice, if not three times, as bad.”

“But I know what to expect this time,” Stiles argued.

“I’m hoping that it won’t even come to a fight,” Peter countered. “They’re young hot heads out to prove themselves, but hopefully they aren’t suicidal. Once they realize that we’re onto their plan they might back down.”

“So they can come back later and kill us,” Derek scoffed.

_They’ll never be satisfied until we’re all dead._

“So we’ll have more time to improve our defenses and prepare for other situations like this one,” Laura said.

“Precisely,” Peter agreed.

“I still think I could help,” Stiles grumbled.

“And if things start looking bad, you will,” Peter said sagely. “But as a last resort. Keeping the hunters ignorant of your existence is one of our top priorities. After all, anonymity is our first line of defense.”

“Don’t think that you can appease me by quoting X-Men,” Stiles scowled.

“Just trying to put things in a way that you could better relate to,” Peter smirked.

 _That’s kind of the problem._ Derek mused as he angrily speared another bite of eggs with his fork.

Stiles still didn’t get it. He might be mature in a lot of ways but he was still young and naive. He thought he was invincible, like the hero in some movie or comic book that would beat the bad guys and they’d all live happily ever after. Real life didn’t work that way. In real life, people got hurt and died. The bad guys got away with their crimes more often than not and innocent people paid the price.

After they finished eating, it was still much too early to take up their positions in woods. The burning wouldn’t even start for another few hours, so the only thing left to do was wait. They’d been waiting for days so you would think that having to wait some more would drive them crazy, but it didn’t. For some reason, having to wait for something specific and having a plan to deal with it was a much better way to spend time than just sitting around for some mysterious threat that could come in any form and at any time. They were still anxious but now that they had a goal, they were able to handle it better.

Even Stiles was able to wait, with a minimum of complaining.

At around eight o’clock—the time when the Prescribed Burning was supposed to start—Stiles got a call from his dad. The Sheriff had succeeded in getting a couple of the specialized HEPA gas masks that the forest rangers used. Stiles immediately volunteered to be the one to go and meet him to collect the masks.

“I’ll head down to the Preserve’s parking lot, grab the masks from my dad, check on my Jeep, and be back here in a flash,” Stiles said, already putting on his shoes.

“Derek can go with you,” Laura added, giving him a shove in Stiles’ direction. “I don’t think any of us should be anywhere on our own, until the hunters are dealt with, and you both could used the chance to stretch your legs a bit.”

Derek was torn between his urge to protect and watch over Stiles and his apprehension at being alone with Stiles again. Not that Laura really gave him a choice. She all but pushed the two of them out of the house.

Once they were outside, Derek took off at a run, in order to avoid any uncomfortable conversation. Stiles swiftly caught up to and surpassed him. He had to admit one thing, Stiles may not have been as strong as him but he was definitely the fastest member of the pack. Especially, since he’d finally grown into those long, gangly limbs. Though he still occasionally flailed about, Stiles was far from the clumsy, coltish teenager he used to be. Watching his smooth, powerful strides in front of him, the only word Derek could think of to describe him was ‘graceful.’

Seeing Stiles’ enticing from just ahead of him, made his mouth salivate. His wolf was growling in want. As far as his wolf was concerned, Stiles was baiting him. Daring the older wolf to chase him, to try and catch him and claim what was his. If Derek had any less control, he probably would have already pounced on him.

Thankfully they reached the Preserve parking lot in record time. The last thing he needed was to walk into a meeting with the Sheriff—Stiles’ father—sporting a hard on. Luckily, that thought was enough to extinguish his arousal, at least enough so that Stiles wouldn’t notice.

The Sheriff was leaning against his cruiser, eyes scanning the tree line for them. As soon as he spotted them, he stood up straighter and waived them down. Stiles immediately pulled his dad into a big hug. Derek had never been gladder that the Sheriff was human and couldn’t smell Derek all over his son.

“Good to see that you’re still in one piece, son,” the Sheriff said, giving his son a once over.

“Yeah, well the real trouble hasn’t started up yet,” Stiles replied.

“Derek,” the Sheriff clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s good to see you Sheriff.”

“You know that you can call me John, Derek,” the Sheriff grins at him.

“I think Sheriff suits you better,” he said, earning him a weary chuckle.

“So, dad, you said you scored us a couple of those special gas masks,” Stiles cut in.

“Yes, I did,” the Sheriff said, as he reached through the passenger side window to take out a couple of gas masks. “I was only able to get two of them and only because I made the case that the police force might need a few in case the wind shifts and drives the smoke into town.”

When Peter had first mentioned the Sheriff getting gas masks for them, Derek’s brain had jumped to images from old movies about virus outbreaks. To be fair the masks the Sheriff procured were a lot better looking than the clunky, alien-like contraptions used by Hollywood. They were more streamlined, with no random tubes or nozzles sticking out of odd places. Everything on them simple yet served a purpose.

The Sheriff spent a good half hour explaining how they worked and the proper way to wear them. He made each of them put on and remove the masks no less than three times, until he was satisfied that they knew how to adjust them and make sure the seal around the edge was good.

“And they’ll keep out all the smoke?” Derek asked.

“From what my friend at the Fish and Wildlife Department said, these things were designed to keep out everything from viruses to radioactive particles. I don’t think that smoke and ask will be too much of a problem,” the Sheriff replied.

“It’s going to get in the way of our sense of smell and it will limit our peripheral vision,” Derek huffed, as he adjusted another strap on his mask.

“But it will save us from choking and we would probably have no vision at all without the masks,” Stiles countered with an annoyed look. “So, thanks dad.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Derek protested, not wanting to make the Sheriff think he was ungrateful. “I just—”

“It’s okay, Derek,” the Sheriff said. “I know how you feel. It’s a crappy situation all the way round.”

There was a short pause, and then the Sheriff leveled Stiles with a measuring look.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can convince you to sit this one out and let Peter and the rest of the pack handle this?” the Sheriff sighed.

“No chance in hell,” Stiles confirmed.

“I’ve got half a mind to hit you over the head and lock you in one of the station’s holding-cells until this is all over,” the Sheriff said grimly. “But, knowing you, you’d find a way to be back here and into trouble.”

“I totally would,” Stiles agreed, with a weak smile.

The Sheriff gave a heavy sigh, one that Derek could relate to. If he thought for a second that they’d be able to hold the younger wolf, he would have snatched up the Sheriff’s handcuffs and cuffed Stiles to the police cruiser.

“But, you’ll be careful, right,” the Sheriff asked solemnly. “You’ll follow Peter’s orders and not take any stupid chances.”

“Of course,” Stiles assured, his voice cracking slightly.

“I’ll look out for him too,” Derek assured. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”

_I’d die first._

“I know you won’t, Derek,” the Sheriff agreed and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I know you won’t. And I’ll be right here in case things go sideways on you.”

“Dad! You can’t be around, when the hunters attack,” Stiles yelped in alarm. “What if you get hit with a stray bullet? What if one of them comes this way and attacks you? What if—”

“And what if you end up needing backup and I’m all the way on the other side of town?” the Sheriff said sternly. “I’m a trained police officer, whose job it is to take down dangerous people, especially those who are trying to kill my son, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit at the station doing paperwork. Now I’m going to be positioned here in case I’m needed or one of those bastards tries to escape.”

Stiles attempted and failed to stare his father down.

_People may talk about how much Stiles resembles his mother, but he is definitely John Stilinski’s son. The resemblance between the two of them is obvious, especially when they’re both angry._

“Fine,” Stiles threw his hands up in surrender. “But at least tell me that you’re wearing your bulletproof vest.”

The Sheriff pulled down the collar of his loose uniform shirt to reveal a bulletproof vest underneath.

Stiles and his dad bantered for a few more minutes. It was lighthearted but the underlying tension was palpable. When they finally decided to head back to the house, the Sheriff pulled Stiles into a tight hug that Stiles returned with equal intensity. Then the Sheriff stepped back and shook Derek’s hand.

“I’ll see you boys later tonight, when this is all over,” the Sheriff promised.

Then the two of them headed back into the forest; only stopping once they reached the tree line to wave back at the Sheriff.

The walk back to the house was both slower and quieter than it was to the Preserve’s parking lot. Looking over at Stiles, Derek could see he was lost in thought. Apprehension radiated off Stiles in waves. Derek desperately wanted say something that would put him at ease, but words had never been his strong suit. Instead, he settled for action, as he deliberately let his arm brush against Stiles’ as they walked. Just a small bit of physical contact to let Stiles know that he was there for him.

Peter greeted them from the back porch and informed them that Laura had gone to check on the hunter’s location and would be back shortly.

_So much for no one going out on their own._

When Laura returned, reporting that the hunters still hadn’t moved, Derek and Stiles reiterated what the Sheriff had told them about the masks and how to use them. They also relayed that the Sheriff had positioned himself near the entrance to the Preserve in case the hunters try and get away from them. Peter assured Stiles that the hunters wouldn’t get anywhere near his father as the whole point of letting the hunters chase them was to lead them further into the Preserve, not towards the exit.

Peter also decided that Derek and Stiles would be the ones to wear the HEPA gas masks, over Derek’s vehement protests.

“Laura and I, as Alpha-Heir and Alpha, are stronger and are better able to deal with hazards of not wearing one of the masks,” Peter reasoned. “You and Stiles will be more affected by it than we will.”

 _Physically **and** mentally._ He thought bitterly.

Peter was no fool. Even if Derek had never told him about the phantom smoke he smelled whenever bad memories came up, he probably noticed how agitated he got when there was so much as a candle burning near him. He’d had to leave town a few times during previous Prescribed Burnings.

They didn’t talk much after that. Peter offered to make some lunch but no one thought they could stomach any food. All of them were on edge as they waited for the effects of the burning to reach them.

They didn’t have that long to wait.

Even before the smell of burning wood and brush, came the noise. The noise was deafening. Every living creature in the entire Preserve was worked up into a frenzy of panic and instinct. Unlike humans, you couldn’t exactly warn all the various critters of the forest that they were about to be burned out of their homes.

Everything animal in the forest, from birds to deer to fluffy little squirrels, was running around screeching and squawking for their lives. Hell, the fish were probably even freaking out in the ponds and streams. You just never realized how _alive_ the forest was until every creature in it was crying out all at once.

The smell hit them next. A forest burning didn’t smell like a regular fire burning. At least not to a werewolf. Of course there was the smell of burning wood from the trees, but it was living wood and took on a wholly unique odor compared to dead and dried out fire wood. Then there was everything else that burned in the fire; things like leaves, grass, pine needles, moss, flowers, weeds, acorns, and a plethora of other forest flora. All of these scents combined into a singular bouquet that steadily increased.

Deciding that it was time to take up their posts in the safety of the woods, Peter instructed Derek and Stiles to put on their gas masks and went over the plan one last time. They also made sure that all their security cameras were functioning and had plenty of memory space to be able to capture the hunters’ approach, no matter when they finally came. Then they headed outside.

“Remember, look sharp for any nasty surprises they might spring on us,” Peter warned with some last minute advice. “Even with the advantage of the smoke in the air clouding our senses, I wouldn’t put it past them to have something like aconite pepper spray or even a dog whistle up their sleeves. And don’t forget that many hunters spend time in various branches of the military; learning how to fight and take on opponents that are stronger than themselves, so don’t think your strength alone will win a fight. Use your heads. Think before you make a move. Our objective it to wear them down, not to charge in blindly.”

Peter gave each of them a steady look and each of them nodded agreement in turn. Then they took off into the woods.

“We’ll be okay,” Peter’s voice carried just loud enough for werewolf ears. “We know they’re coming and we’re prepared to deal with them. Just stick to the plan and we’ll all be fine.”

Derek didn’t know if it was because Peter was his uncle or his alpha, but his words soothed a little of the worry. Casting one last look in Stiles’ direction, Derek turned and headed to an area he knew that had enough foliage and shrubbery to hide him from sight yet still give him a clear view of Peter and the house.

Now, all that was left to do was wait.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left! I hope you liked it. Comments and critiques are always welcome and in fact they motivate me to write faster, so let me know what you think. Or you can follow me on tumblr at LuminescentLily.tumblr.com :)


	11. Chapter 11 Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long with this chapter again but I've started a new job this past month plus classes have started up again, so I've been busy. I managed to post this chapter just in time for the mid-season finale. I know a lot of people have already seen it because it leaked on the internet but I haven't and I'm so excited for it. Anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter. I'm off to watch the rest of the Teen Wolf marathon that's on today with all the behind the scenes extras they're showing. Enjoy!

 

 

Derek didn’t like the gas mask.

Scratch that.

He hated it.

It wasn’t just because it limited his smell and vision, although those two reasons alone would have earned his disapproval. It had more to do with how it made him feel like a caged animal.

Even the relatively thin barrier separating him from the rest of the world made his hackles rise. His own breathing sounded impossibly loud and harsh, as it echoed within the confines of the rubber and plastic prison. He felt trapped within the narrow boarders of the masks edges, but he knew he couldn’t take it off. That would make things infinitely worse. The instant he pulled the mask away from his face, smoke and vapors would flood his smell and vision. His eyes would water and blur. His lungs would burn from the dry, polluted air. In seconds he would be completely immobilized.

But worst of all was the fact that, even with the mask, he could still smell the smoke. Objectively, he knew that the mask was doing a phenomenal job of filtering out all the smoke in the air, allowing his to breath somewhat normally but it wasn’t perfect. Faint traces of burning wood penetrated the mask’s filter no matter how many times he adjusted the straps.

You would think that after almost a week of smelling phantom smoke he would have been used to the near crippling sense of dread that accompanied it in his mind.

No such luck.

Shaking his head irritably, he tried to focus on the present moment and not memories of the past that were threatening to overwhelm him. Concentrating on his hearing, he listened for the sounds of his packmates’ heartbeats. He had trouble at first on account of all the interfering noises of the forest. The shrieking and chattering of every living creature in a ten mile radius created a cacophony of noise that almost drowned out everything else. Almost, but not quite. Growing accustom to the noise, he was able to narrow down his focus and soon located Peter, Laura, and Stiles’ heartbeats.

All three of their heart rates were elevated in anticipation but each still had their own unique cadence. Peter’s heartbeat was always strong and steady, even when he was worried about something. Derek didn’t know if it was a side effect of being an Alpha or if it was just Peter’s own naturally unshakable personality. Either way, just hearing that steady rhythm set him at ease a little. Laura’s was almost as steady as Peter’s but occasionally it would speed up for short bursts, before returning to normal. Derek knew what was causing it. Laura running through possible scenarios in her mind and every now and then she would think of a way that it could go horribly wrong.

Then there was Stiles. Even under the best of circumstances, Stiles’ heartbeat could be described as erratic. Peter thought it was just because he was young, while Laura thought it was because he was still relatively new to being a werewolf. He’d been turned well over a year ago but compared to a born werewolf that would still be considered recent. Derek had another theory. He thought that it was because Stiles’ mind was always running in a million different directions at once. Even though he didn’t have ADHD anymore, Stiles’ mind was still a bizarre place. You only needed to have a twenty minute conversation, where Stiles would run through about fifty different topics and go off on another thirty different tangents, to realize that. The million different thoughts running through Stiles’ brain kept his emotions in a whirlwind of activity, making him nearly impossible to get a read on in some situations.

At the moment, Stiles’ heart rate was as erratic as ever but it wasn’t too elevated. No more than either Peter or Laura’s. He let out a relieved sigh. Stiles was worried, like the rest of them, but he wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could be. One of Derek’s biggest worries about having Stiles here was that seeing the hunters would trigger a panic attack. That, combined with all the smoke in the air, would leave Stiles utterly defenseless.

Once he’d pinpointed the sound of their heartbeats through all the noise, he was able to zero in on where they were located. Peter was sitting on the porch, right where they’d left him. Laura was a little ways off to his left, to get a better line of sight on the side of the house. And Stiles was even further away to his right, where he would have a clear view of the road leading up to the house.

Derek was torn between wanting to have Stiles right next to him, where he could protect him, and wanting him even further away, where he would be out of danger. In the end he had to settle for just keeping Stiles within hearing range.

_He’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay._

 

 

They had been in position for a little over an hour before they started getting anxious. Peter had warned them that the hunters might not make their move until sundown or maybe not even until tomorrow. The prescribed burning would be going on for a few days and the hunters could choose any time to attack them. Now that he thought about it, if he was the hunter, he’d wait until one of the days in the middle of the burning and he’d strike in the early morning, when his prey would be sleepy and easier to catch off guard.

And if he’d thought of that, you can bet that Peter, Laura, and probably Stiles had all thought of it as well. They would be ready, no matter when the hunters arrived.

 _We’re not helpless this time. This time we’re the predators waiting for our prey_.

And wait they did. For hours they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

They moved around a little, just to keep alert and prevent their limbs from cramping up. But, even with hearing on alert for anyone approaching and hidden in the woods, they were still careful. In the forest it was easier to spot movement than specific objects and they had no way of knowing what kind of weapons the hunters had. There might have been a sniper getting into position, waiting for any hint shaking branches or rustling bushes to strike.

Most of the time he spent adjusting and readjusting the straps of his gas mask and keeping track of his packmates heartbeats.

He caught a few occasional glimpses of Laura as she rotated back and forth between three main perches.  She had fashioned her own makeshift gasmask by putting on a pair of swimming goggles and tying a bandana around her nose and mouth. It looked a little ridiculous but, if it helped, he wasn’t going to say anything.

Peter hadn’t moved at all from his seat on the porch, a book in hand. He looked perfectly at ease, as if he was just enjoying a normal afternoon of leisure. Derek would bet his entire inheritance that Peter hadn’t read so much as a single word of that book he was holding. He would also take out his phone every so often and send a text. At first, Derek thought he was sending orders to Laura but he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. Once he paid more attention, he realized that Peter was sending out one text every hour exactly.

_Sending updates to his mystery acquaintance._

He pushed that thought out of his mind and focused on other things. Like Stiles. He had yet to catch so much as a hint of Stiles. The younger wolf was taking Peter’s advice to heart and staying well hidden. If it weren’t for the lock he had on the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat, Derek might have started worrying about him.

 

 

It was well after sunset when they finally came. Full dark had settled, not that it mattered to them. Werewolves couldn’t exactly see in the dark—not like in the movies—but their eyesight was far superior to the average human and let them take in more light. Even the faint light of the half moon, to a werewolf’s eyes, might as well have been noon on a sunny day.

Adjusting his mask for the thousandth time, Derek was the first one to notice their approach. He didn’t see, smell, or even hear them approach; it was more of a feeling. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and dread gripped his insides.

“They’re here,” he said just loud enough for his pack to hear him but not the hunter.

Immediately, the heart rates of his pack mates shot up but quickly evened out as they all focused on the hunters’ approach. All three hunters were headed in their direction. They were making their way through the woods from the road, their route taking them right by where Derek was hiding.

His anxiety increased in direct proportion to how close they came. Panic welled up inside of him but he viciously pushed it back down.

They passed by him, not even six feet to his left. He fought the urge to jump out and confront them, catch them off guard, but he stayed as unmoving as a statue. The stench of wolfsbane was strong enough to make it past his gas mask’s filter and into his nose but he still didn’t move a muscle. He would follow Peter’s plan. Things worked better when you had a plan.

From his hiding place, he got a full view of them as they passed by. He was struck—yet again—by just how young they were. Even though they were dressed in face paint and expensive army camo, the kind you bought at high-end hunting stores, they looked more like little kids in soldier costumes for Halloween than battle hardened warriors.

But they were armed. The tallest one was carrying a crossbow slung over his shoulder and from the glint of moonlight on metal in their hands it looked like they were all carrying knives or daggers. They didn’t have any guns from what he could see and they definitely weren’t carrying any high powered rifles.

They weren’t exactly being stealthy in their approach either. They weren’t talking at all but they were stomping through brush, boots trampling every stick and leaf in their path, so that even a human would have been able to hear them coming. And they were coughing form the smoke every so often. Why bother wearing camouflage if you’re not even attempting to hide your approach?

_They have to have something up their sleeve if they’re this confident._

They’d find out soon enough, as the three hunters made their way up to the house. The hunters stayed in a tight nit formation and stopped just before they reached the tree line and watched the house. All the lights were out and Peter was concealed in the shadows of the porch. To an outsider, it might seem like everyone in the house had gone to sleep for the night.

 _You think we’re all huddled in the house, like sitting ducks, for you to kill in our beds._ He thought sourly. _You think you can use the forest to hide, but this is our territory._

Laura and he had stealthily moved in closer behind them. The hunters hadn’t noticed but they still kept a safe distance. He watched as the leader—or who they thought was the leader—was signaling something to the other two, though from the looks of it the other two didn’t exactly agree with what he was ordering them to do. He could see the leader’s posture become tenser and his hand movements became sharper as his anger grew.

_Dissension in the ranks._

After a few minutes, they finally seemed to agree on their course of action. The tall one took the crossbow off his shoulder and loaded an arrow. Fanning out a little, but still keeping in formation, they crept out of the tree line and towards the house. Even though he hated the idea of these hunters getting anywhere near his home, he was at least grateful that they weren’t splitting up. It would be so much easier to herd them if they were all together.

“You do realize that you’re trespassing on private property,” Peter taunted, as he stepped out from the shadows of the porch and into the moonlight.

Obviously not expecting to meet any resistance just yet, the hunters froze like deer in headlights. The tall one actually _dropped his crossbow_ , he was so startled. He quickly scrambled to pick it up but his movements were clumsy and unsure.

“I don’t know what it is you think you’ll accomplish here, but I suggest you leave,” Peter continued, walking down the porch steps. “Go now and I won’t press charges with the police.”

“Fuck!” the one with spiky blonde hair whispered loudly. “They knew we were coming, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” the leader stated vehemently. “We’ve came for you _monster_! And we’re not leaving until you and all your filth are dead.”

“What the fuck, Shane,” the tall one bleated, as he shakily pointing his crossbow at Peter. “We were supposed to catch them by surprise. This isn’t catching them by surprise.”

“Shut UP, Chad,” the leader—Shane—ordered, taking a step forward even as it was clear from the body language of the other two that they wanted to retreat back to the tree line. “We came here on a mission and we’re not leaving until it’s finished.”

“What crime have we committed to earn this kind of retribution,” Peter inquired casually. “What rule of your precious Code have we transgressed? We haven’t exactly harmed anyone. No little girls in red coats have gone missing have they?”

Peter was toying with them. He was deliberately trying to provoke the leader into attacking him. It wasn’t exactly what they’d planned but then again nothing was really going as planned tonight.

“But you will. Monsters like you can’t help yourselves,” Shane declared. “Creatures like you should be wiped off the face of the earth so that you never have the chance to hurt the innocent.”

“And what will your fellow hunters say, when they find out you’ve broken the Code?” Peter challenged.

“What C-code?” the young one with spiky blonde hair stuttered.

“Shut up, Dave,” Shane snarled, and the other two flinched. It was obvious that they wanted to run away but instead they were huddling a little ways behind the leader.

_How do they not know about the Code? What’s going on here?_

He looked over at Laura only to see the same confusion written plainly on her face. She’d taken off the swimming goggles and bandana to get a better read on the hunters’ scents. After a few seconds of deliberation, Derek decided to take off his mask as well. As soon as he lifted the mask away from his face, he was assaulted by the smell of smoke, so strong that he actually had to drop to his knees. Laura was immediately next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back but keeping her eyes glued to the hunters. Derek could still vaguely hear them squabbling with each other.

He took a few breaths and began to come back to his sense. One of the first things he registered, even over the smell of smoke, was the smell of fear. The two hunters behind the leader were oozing terror from every pore. It comforted him, knowing that they were afraid.

Once Derek was back on his feet, Peter gave a signal and Laura was no longer next to him. Instead, she was stalking closer to the hunters, buts still inside the tree line.

“Weren’t there two more?” Dave asked, in a frighten voice. “Where are the other two?”

“Right here,” Laura announced as she burst out of the woods behind them, claws out and eyes glowing.

Chad spun around and fired his crossbow wildly, missing Laura by a mile. He tried to reload it but his movements were too jerky and she easily ripped the crossbow from his hands right before knocking him to the ground. Dave tried to make a run for the trees but Derek was waiting for him. To say that he screamed like little girl would be an insult to little girls everywhere. He effortlessly grabbed him by the front of his jacket and threw him to the ground next to Chad.

Seeing his accomplices defeated so easily, Shane gripped his knife tighter and charged straight at Peter. Peter simply stepped out of the way, letting Shane stumble over the porch steps. Getting up quickly, he turned and started slashing at Peter, only managing to slice through air. Deciding that he’d had enough, Peter seized Shane’s wrist and squeezed until he dropped the knife. Then he tossed Shane next to the other two, where Derek and Laura were keeping guard.

It was all done in a just a few minutes.

As soon as Derek was sure all three of them were down, he focused his hearing to locate Stiles. He’d moved closer to the house. Close enough that he could jump in if there was trouble, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen. Once he’d confirmed that Stiles was okay, he turned his attention back to Peter.

“A silver knife,” Peter noted, as he examined Shane’s knife. “You’re not even real hunters are you?”

“No we’re not, we’re not,” pleaded Dave. “Shane only met some of them last year.”

“Quiet!” Shane shouted.

“They saved him from a werewolf and he asked them to train him but they refused,” Chad admitted.

“I **am** a real hunter,” Shane shrilled. “And once I prove myself by killing you three, they’ll see that too.”

_How could we have been so blind? We were trying so hard not to underestimate the hunters that we overestimated. Drastically overestimated them, in fact._

“Oh God,” Dave cried. “Please, don’t kill me. I’m not really a monster hunter. I’m just an accounting major. I just wanted to do something epic, before I spent the rest of my life doing people’s taxes.”

“I don’t even know how to use that crossbow; I just bought it at DragonCon,” Chad wailed.

“We thought it would be fun,” Dave sobbed, wringing his hands, tears and snot running down his face. “Like a real life Van Helsing.”

“ ** _Fun!_** ” Laura snarled, as she stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You thought it would be **_fun_** to murder three innocent people.”

Chad and Dave looked like they were about to piss themselves.

“You’re not innocent!” Shane sneered, trying to stand only to have Peter knock him down again. “You’re monsters! The world would be better off without freaks like you in it.”

Ignoring Shane, Peter crouched down and faced the other two.

“How did you arrange for the date of the Prescribed Burning to be moved up?” Peter interrogated.

“It was my dad!” Chad shouted. “Andrew Russo, he runs a bunch of restaurants. This other guy—Manchicho or something—he’s trying to compete with my dad, so my dad bribed some guy in the Fish and Wildlife Department to move up the date and ruin some big opening. I overheard them talking about it. That’s it I **swear**!”

He was telling the truth. His heart rate was through the roof but there weren’t any skipped beats that are typical of lying.

“Then S-Shane t-told us how w-werewolves have really s-sensitive s-smell so we thought t-that all the s-smoke would give us an edge,” Dave sobbed.

Derek would almost feel sorry for him, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d come here with the intent to kill him and his entire family because he thought it would be _fun_.

“Traitors!” Shane accused. “You two are just a couple of fucking pussies!”

“And the wolfsbane?” Peter demanded. “Or did you learn about that from the same website that you ordered the silver knives from?”

“We’ve anointed ourselves with Aconitum to shield ourselves from the Devil’s spawn, like you,” Shane boasted, puffing his chest out. “It’s a holy plant know as monkshood, because it protects the righteous from evil, and wolfsbane, because it kills _creatures_ like you.”

_Seriously?_

“Actually, it’s called monkshood because its flowers are shaped like the hood of the cloaks that medieval monks wore,” Peter lectured, rubbing his eyes in a mixture of annoyance and rage. “It was called wolfsbane because hunters used to mix it with meat and leave it out in the woods to poison wolves in the area. Because it _is_ a poison. And not just for wolves, you imbeciles.”

“Like we’d trust anything you had to say,” Shane scoffed. “You’d say anything to trick us, so that you can get away.”

_Is this idiot for real?_

Derek looked over to Laura to see a similar look of disbelief. He could just picture the how Stiles’ eyes must be popping out of his head.

“Yes, because we’re _really_ the ones who are in danger here,” Peter said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Aconite is poisonous to humans as well as animals. A simple Google search could have told you that.”

“We’ve been bathing in poison!” Chad exclaimed. “Oh God! Is that why my chest hurts so much—”

“But it can’t hurt you unless you drink it, right?” Dave asked pitifully. “That’s how poisons work, right, you have to drink them.”

_How stupid are these kids?_

“Shut up,” Shane ordered, then turned back to face Peter, “You don’t fool me for a second. I’ve met true hunters and they told me all about wolfsbane. How it masks our scent and makes you weak just from the smell of it. Must have been driving you crazy having us follow you all week and not be able to smell us, like we were ghosts.”

_What!?!_

“They told you it would hide your scent and that the smell alone could incapacitate us?” Laura asked in shock.

Derek was pretty shocked too. What could they be thinking? The wolfsbane hadn’t hidden their scent; it had just overpowered it for the most part. Far from hiding them, it had actually made them easier to spot, like giant neon signs above their heads reading “We’re here to kill you.”

“They told me it was your weakness,” Shane shot back, then his eyes narrowed. “And that’s all I’ll tell you. I won’t betray my fellow humans to abominations like you.”

Derek couldn’t hold back a growl at that last part, loud enough for the humans to hear, but Shane just smirked at him defiantly.

“Alright, I think I’ve heard enough,” Peter said, standing up.

“Oh God you’re going to kill us.”

“I don’t want to die!”

“No one’s going to be killing anyone tonight,” Peter sighed dramatically. “Though I am going to have the three of you arrested for trespassing and possibly attempted murder.”

“Go ahead, call the police,” Shane yelled. “I’ll tell them exactly what you are and then we’ll see who goes to jail.”

“You go right ahead,” Peter agreed. “Tell everyone that we’re big bad werewolves. A few years in a psychiatric facility might do you some good.”

“Oh man,” Chad cried. “My dad’s gonna kill me.”

Derek growled at him, causing him to burst into even more tears.

_Their lucky that jail is the worst thing that’ll happen to them._

“Stiles, run down the road and get your father,” Peter spoke softly, so the hunters in front of him wouldn’t hear but Stiles just beyond the tree line would. “Tell him we may have to bring the Three Stooges here to the hospital for aconite poisoning.”

“Right,” Stiles replied in an equally soft tone. “Back in a sec.”

Even though he kept his eyes trained on the three subdued wannabe-hunters, Derek focused his hearing on the sounds of Stiles making his way back towards the main road. He was grateful that Stiles was still following Peter’s orders to stay out of sight. These three might not be real hunters but they still knew who and what they were. If their own idiocy didn’t kill them, they would probably try and find real hunters to train them, at least the loud-mouth delusional one would. Derek didn’t want him to be able to tell any actual hunters about Stiles.

“Well, this had been an interesting night,” Peter joked, as he took his phone out of his pocket.

Suddenly, three loud bangs rang out through the night followed by a sharp pain in his chest. Derek looked down to see a syringe-like projectile puncturing his chest just above his heart. Before he could fully comprehend what had just happened, his arms and legs started feeling heavy and everything around him started spinning. He tried to take a step forward, only to have the ground rush up to meet him.

 _They were decoys._ He though detachedly, while looking over to see Peter and Laura falling to the ground as well. _Thank God Stiles got away._

Then everything went black.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!!!!
> 
> I know a few people already guessed that the hunters might have been poisoning themselves but I still have one last twist in the next chapter. The last chapter will be Stiles' POV and I write those a lot faster, so hopefully it won't take that long to get it posted.
> 
> I love getting comments about what you thought about the chapter whether they're compliments or critiques of something I might have done wrong or out of character. Also feel free to yell at me to write faster in the comments or on my tumblr account at LuminescentLily.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter 12 Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! It turned out to be way longer than I thought it would. It's a little rushed near the ending but overall I think it came out pretty good. I hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

To say that this day was the worst day of his life, would have been an understatement of the most colossal proportions. Like, seriously, the only things that could possibly make this day any worse were the Ten Plagues of Egypt or a Dalek invasion. And the way today was going; either of those happening wouldn’t even surprise him.

He hadn’t even been awake for a full five minutes, before things had started going downhill.

It wasn’t like he’d set out to intentionally make Derek angry. Right before he’d woken up, everything had been perfect. He’d been in that warm and comfy place between sleeping and waking, with the most delicious smell of Derek, mixed with the faint hint of breakfast, filling his nose.

Then Derek said something about ‘hunters’ and his wolf had jumped into fight mode—or at least a clumsy, jolt of alertness.

Once he’d calmed down, he noticed just how close he and Derek were. His wolf had purred in happiness. Unfortunately, Stiles brain just had to choose that moment to jump back to thoughts of the previous night. Not to the amazing sex they’d had or when Derek had opened up to him and shared about his past. No, Stiles’ first thought just had to be about how Derek hadn’t really wanted to sleep with him and had told him to leave at first but the Heat hormones had overwhelmed him. This of course made Stiles start to worry about how Derek would yell at him or just kick him out. But Derek, the secretly great guy that he is, had tried to make it okay, in his own awkward way.

When Derek had moved away from him on the bed, his wolf howled in protest but he had managed to contain himself. He had desperately wanted to just fling himself back into Derek’s arms but the hunters were going to attack today and they had needed to prepare. So, he’d taken the first opening he could get to have an excuse to get away, before he could do or said something really embarrassing.

Not that his babbling hadn’t bad enough.

It had taken him twice as long to show as it normally did because most of the time had been spent trying to rein in his inner wolf and keep himself from running after Derek. The fact that he used Derek’s shower didn’t help. It is next to impossible to stop thinking about someone, while being surrounded by their scent.

When he finally emerged from the shower, he thought he should have a quick talk with Derek, just to clear the air between them, only to find that Derek had already gone downstairs. He had lingered on the stairs for a few minutes, before he realized that he was just prolonging the inevitable awkward moment.

When he had entered the kitchen, the first thing he laid eyes on was Derek. His wolf rose up in him again and he was nearly overcome with a strange and fierce desire to sink his teeth into Derek’s neck.

_Mine. Bite. Claim._

He had hesitated in the doorway for a moment, to get his wolf under control, and then had taken his usual place at the table. It had been tense and a little awkward and what little conversation there was had been strained.

After they had finished eating, the only thing they could do was wait. The waiting had been both better and worse than before. It was better because he had been calmer since they finally had a plan but at the same time having a plan somehow made it all seem so _real_. Before, the

Then he had gotten a call from his dad, letting him know that he had managed to get a couple of the specialized gas masks for them. Under normal circumstances that would have been just the type of good news to lift his spirits. And it had. Until his dad had told him that he would be staying in the Preserve.

He had hated the idea of his dad being in danger but, realistically, he knew that there wasn’t much he could do about it.  His dad was a trained police officer and should—in theory—be able to hold his own against three guys in their early twenties. But these were hunters.

And then there was more waiting. It was a little better because he was out in the woods and able to move around more but he still had to wear the gas mask, which he hated. It wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was restricting and made him feel caged in. He’d had to consciously fight the urge to shake it off, like a dog with its head stuck in a paper bag.

Then there was the noise. At first, the noise had been almost unbearable. It was even worse than when the douche in the dorm room next to his at Berkeley blasted his death metal music. Worse because it was just noise he had heard, it was fear. It’s like how scary movies are scarier in the movie theater than at home because you can hear other people’s frightened screams, feel their panic. A flashback of the first time he watched the forest fire scene in Bambi, when he was six, had flitted through is mind.

All of these elements had kept him on edge and restless, as they had waited for the hunters to arrive. He had kept well out of sight, partially to follow Peter’s orders but mostly to keep one ear on the lookout towards the back of the house, the direction of his dad. If the hunters came from that direction…He didn’t even want to think about it.

When the hunter had finally arrived, nothing happened like it was supposed to. Mostly because the hunters—the three punks who had driven him and his pack to the brink of insanity with worry— ** _WEREN’T ACTUAL HUNTERS_**.

They were just a couple of idiots following a nut-job.

Stiles could admit that he’d done his fair share of idiotic things growing up—trying to throw a trash can lid around like Captain America’s Shield, attempting to fix the brakes on his Jeep by himself after watching a YouTube video of how to do it, and of course going out into the woods alone at night while a rogue Alpha werewolf was on the loose, to name a few—but he’d never done anything this malicious. Yeah, he’d been a bit of a prankster and a general nuisance but he’d never hurt anyone or ever done anything with the intension of hurting someone.

These three actually thought it would be _fun_ to kill three people.

_And the tomato-faced guy who had been yelling at his dad at the station had been right; his competition really was trying to run him out of business._

Once they had gotten a full confession from the wannabe-hunters, Peter had ordered him to go his dad so he could arrest them. Personally, he thought Peter should have held them over the edge of a cliff or at least transformed into his full Alpha mode to really put the fear of God in those idiots. But he supposed that prison was a good enough alternative. He’d sent a text to his dad saying that they’d caught the hunters and he was on his way to meet him. Then he set off at a run for the Preserve parking lot.

Of course, that’s when everything had to go to hell again.

He’d been running through the trees and was halfway to his dad, when he thought that. Two seconds later he’d heard the gunshots. Skidding in the leaves and moss of the forest floor as he tried to turn too quickly, he jumped up, kicked off against a tree, and launched himself back in the direction of the Hale House. If he wasn’t so worried about his pack, he would have been really impressed with how awesome that little move was.

 _It can’t be._ He thought desperately. _All three of those bastards were on the ground and none of them had guns._

A queasy feeling settled in his gut as he ran like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. After his mom died, he’d been so broken. Life had seemed to lose all purpose and joy. Only a lot of time, therapy, and the support of good friends had helped him go back a small semblance of a normal life. He didn’t know if he could go through that again. If he could stand loosing another person he cared so much about.

As he neared the Hale House, a little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Peter warned him to slow down and take stock of the situation before he rushed in. He came to a stop just inside of the tree line with a clear view of the house as well as the three forms lying motionless on the ground in front of it. The two cowardly wannabe-hunters were still whimpering on the ground but the loud-mouthed psycho, with the fake military haircut, was on his feet nudging Peter with his foot.

“You see!” Shane proclaimed triumphantly. “I told you the wolfsbane would work.”

“Those were gunshots, Shane,” Dave said.

“Whatever, they’re dead now!”

They were alive! Stiles could hear their heartbeats. Their heart rates were slower because they were unconscious, but they were there. And Dave was right; those had been gunshots but obviously not from these three idiots. He couldn’t smell any blood but, then again, he couldn’t really smell much of anything with this gas mask on, other than smoke and plastic.

Shane decided he was going to celebrate his victory by kicking Peter’s unconscious form. Stiles bit back a growl. He desperately wanted to run down there and defend his pack but someone had just shot them. If he went down there in the open, he would be completely exposed to the same sniper that took down his pack. He needed to formulate a plan and he needed to do it quickly.

Before he could think of anything, three forms emerged from the trees just opposite of him. All three of them carried sniper rifles and were wearing what looked like ponchos made of leaves and twigs woven together.

 _Ghillie suits._ The little trivia tip from a snipers special on the history channel popped into his mind. _These are real hunters._

Shane tripped over himself as he scrambles to move back from the approaching figures. Stiles felt his claws come out and he crouched down in preparation to burst out of hiding if the hunters tried to finish off his pack. Then one of the real hunters removed his hood and looked down at Peter. He was old. In his sixties at the very least. He had a hard face and what little hair he had was solid white.

 “It’s you!” Shane exclaimed. “I knew it! I knew you didn’t mean it, when you said I couldn’t be one of you. You were just testing me. Seeing if I could go through with it. But I did! I passed!”

“Someone shut this idiot up,” the old man ordered. His voice was deep and gravely with an edge of cruelty in it.

Even before the old man spoke, the hunter on his right was stepping forward. Hurt, betrayal, and fear flashed across Shane’s face in quick succession, before the hunter brought the butt of his rifle against the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. Dave and Chad let out panicked noises but stayed frozen on the ground. Stiles didn’t like Shane and would happily see him in prison, but in that instant he felt bad for him. Stiles knew what it was like to want to belong somewhere and he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that these hunters would just let Shane and his friends go. They were witnesses to what was about to happen and that made them dangerous liabilities.

“On your feet,” barked the man who had just knocked out Shane.

Dave and Chad wobbly stood, tears rushing down their faces, only to collapse to the ground again, as the hunter efficiently knocked them both unconscious the same way he had done to Shane.

“Pathetic,” sneered the third hunter. “They barely even put up a fight against the wolves.”

“The youth of today,” the old man sighed wearily. “They’ll talk big when their hiding behind a keyboard but get them outside in the real world and—”

The old man didn’t get to finish his sentence as he doubled over in a coughing fit. The third hunter went over to see if he was alright but the old man just waived him away.

“I’m fine,” the old man wheezed. “It’s just all this smoke in the air. Now, get them inside.”

“What do you want us to do with these three?’ the second hunter asked, pointing at the three wannabe-hunters.

“Leave them tied up back here,” the old man said dismissively. “They might be useful for some practice later on.”

_Practice?_

_What the heck is going on? Why aren’t they just killing them?_ Stiles wondered. From all that he’d heard about hunters, they killed werewolves and hid the bodies. So why didn’t they just kill them and dump their bodies in the woods. Not that Stiles wanted that to happen but it didn’t make any sense. _Are they going to try and stage it to make it look like they died of natural causes? Like they just breathed in too much smoke and suffocated._

The old man knelt down and picked up Peter’s phone. Then he made his way of the steps of the back porch, while the other two put on gloves and then removed some kind of rope from their bags and began tying up the Hales. One of them hefted Laura up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her inside, while the third one started dragging Peter.

Stiles though about rushing down and freeing Derek that way the two of them could rush the hunters but he thought better of it. All three of the Hales were still unconscious and there was no guarantee he could wake Derek up. He might be drugged. Also, the old man was still on the porch, rifle at the ready. There was no way he’d be able to make it across the yard and to Derek before the old man could take a shot at him.

He had to play this smart. They weren’t killing them yet, so he still had time. He wished that he could run back and get his dad but he couldn’t risk it. Instead he circled around to the side of the house, keeping himself hidden behind the tree line. Once, they had Derek inside and the door closed, he risked getting closer to the house. Silently as he could, he jumped up to the roof of the second story. He could hear the hunters moving around inside, searching each room. Soon they were satisfied that the house was empty and gathered in the living room. He could just barely hear the murmuring of their conversation but couldn’t hear anything specific.

_I need to know what they’re saying. What they’re doing._

Nimbly making his way over the room, he headed towards Derek’s bedroom window. It was the only one in the house that he knew for a fact would be unlocked. Derek hated to be in any room without at least two escape routes.

The creak of the window opening sounded impossibly loud in his ears but he knew the hunters wouldn’t be able to hear it. Silently, he slipped inside and ripped off his gas mask. The room still smelled of him and Derek and sex. It made his heart ache at the reminder of how much he had to lose. If something happened to Derek—

_Nope. Not thinking of that. It’s not going to happen. I’m going to figure this out and be a hero. A Big Damn Hero._

But first he had to find out what kind of game these hunters were playing.

Thankfully, the hunters had left Derek’s door wide open. They might not have been able to hear Derek’s window opening but Derek’s door with the rusty hinges was a whole other ballgame. He crept out into the hall and to the top of the stairs, carefully avoiding all the creaky floorboards that he’d memorized in the year and a half that he’d spent here. Then he got down flat on his belly, face pressed against the hardwood of the top step and listened.

“Use more rope on the nephew,” the old man ordered. “And make sure they’re tight. Wouldn’t want him breaking free at the wrong moment now would we.”

Now that he didn’t have the gas mask blocking his sense of smell, he was able to learn a great deal of information just from a few sniffs. The Hales had definitely been drugged. He could smell the synthetic chemical scent of narcotics muddying the scents of his pack. There was something else as well. The ropes they were bound in weren’t ordinary ropes. He could smell wolfsbane on them as well as the scent of blistering skin from where they were touching wrists and ankles.

_They must be soaked in wolfsbane or maybe even woven with wolfsbane fibers._

He could smell the hunters as well. Mostly. Their scents were muted, dulled down somehow. They must have done something to cover their scents but he still caught a little. They smelled of sweat and Kevlar, gunpowder and dirt, and the tiniest hint of wolfsbane. Nowhere near as much as the wannabe-hunters but it was still there.

“Administer the diprenorphine,” the old man commanded. “We need them awake for this next part.”

“All three of them?” the second hunter asked. “I thought we only needed the Alpha.”

“Better to motivate him if they’re awake,” the old man replied.

“Shouldn’t we wait for you to recover more, before we wake them up?” the third hunter inquired. “The recoil from your rifle knocked you back a bit and all the smoke and the hike up here didn’t exactly help.”

“Are you implying that I’m not strong enough to handle it?” the old man asked menacingly.

“I’m just saying that we have _time_ ,” the third hunter said in a more subdued voice.

“And there’s no time like the present,” the old man said. “Now wake them up.”

_They’re waking them up. That’s a good thing. I hope._

Stiles heard one of the hunters rummage around in his bag before pulling out some kind of pouch and unzipping it. There were the tinkling sounds of glass vials knocking against each other and the sound of a syringe being filled. He could almost swear that he even heard the needle puncturing their skin. He wanted to sneak a quick peek at what was happening so badly but he couldn’t. If just one of the hunters caught a glimpse of him, the element of surprise would be gone and that was the only edge he had right now.

He wasn’t in the best position even with surprise on his side. Only one of the hunters was anywhere near the stairs. From the sound of their heartbeats, the other two were on the other side of the living room near the kitchen door, with Peter, Laura, and Derek on the ground between them. He might be able to take out the one by the stairs but there was no way he could get to the other two.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Peter waking up, shortly followed by Laura and Derek. He could hear the exact moment they became aware of the situation they were in. Their heart rates skyrocketed and Derek and Laura at least struggled to get out of their ropes.

“Peter Hale,” the old man gushed with malicious glee. “We meet at last.”

“Gerard,” Peter said flatly. Derek and Laura growled.

_Gerard! Gerard **Argent**! Master Werewolf Hunter extraordinaire. The father of the psychotic bitch who killed Derek’s parents! Shit, we’re in trouble!_

“Just ‘Gerard’. That’s all you have to say,” Gerard said. “I expected a little more from you. After all, you’re quite well known for how eloquent you are. I was looking forward to a good conversation.”

“You arranged all this just for a conversation,” Peter replied calmly, as if he wasn’t tied up and at the mercy of a murderous sociopath. “A simple phone call might have worked better.”

“True, but there’s nothing quite like a good face-to-face chat,” Gerard laughed, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “And I went to an awful lot of trouble to get us all here.”

“So the three Stooges were yours,” Peter said. “I have to say, your training standers have certainly gone down over the years, if those three were best you could produce.”

“Not mine, not exactly,” Gerard corrected. “You could say I took a page from the wolf hunters of old. They didn’t have the technology we have today. They had to rely on their cunning. So, when they were after larger game, first they would send in the hounds to flush out their prey.”

“You used them as cannon fodder.”

“A few pawns are always sacrificed to capture a King.”

“Rather crude,” Peter said. “But effective. And the tranquilizers? It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“Etorphine Hydrochloride,” Gerard answered. “Wonderful little bit of human ingenuity for dealing with beasts. It’s used as an elephant tranquilizer in most places. And it has a handy little antidote that wakes you up again in a matter of seconds. Rather effective against werewolves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Stiles had no idea what the heck was going on. He always knew that Peter was cool under pressure but he was just sitting there tied up, having a conversation with a man who wanted to kill him, like it was the more normal think in the world. Stiles felt like he’d stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone and that any moment Laura would get up and ask if anyone wanted tea and cookies.

Laura too was sitting calmly, not even moving a muscle, though he could just imagine her eyes flitting back and forth between the three hunters.

Derek was the only one who was even attempting to get out of his ropes, with little success from the sound of it. Every frustrated growl or little whine from the wolfsbane laced ropes digging into his skin tugged at Stiles’ heart.

_Peter must be stalling for time and Gerard doesn’t seem to mind. He’s actually enjoying it, like some cheesy movie villain. The creep. But what **exactly** is Peter stalling for? Is he waiting for me to do something? He has to know I’m up here. If I can hear his heartbeat he has to be able to hear mine. But what does he want me to do?_

“So is there a reason you’ve come all this way?” Peter inquired. “Or are you truly that bored that you gave to go through all this just to gloat about how clever you are.”

“You put my daughter on death row,” Gerard spat, voice full of venom. “She’s rotting in a prison cell right now because of you, just waiting for them to execute her.”

“She put herself there, when she murdered members of my family for no reason other than her own bloodlust,” Peter countered, rage just barely contained beneath the surface of his voice.

The tension was palpable and Stiles just knew that Peter was staring Gerard down.

The sounds of heavy breathing echoed through the room. Even Derek had stopped struggling with his ropes. Again, Stiles desperately wanted to see what was happening but he stayed rooted to the spot, hoping that Peter would give him some sort of signal as to what he should do.

Then Stiles heard Peter take in a long breath through his nose and give a harsh laugh.

“The smoke in the air must really have been affecting my senses,” Peter announced. “I don’t know how I missed the stench of decay coming off you.”

“I’m rather surprised it took you this long to detect it,” Gerard shot back. “You wolves are supposed to have such keen noses.”

“Cancer” Laura stated hesitantly.

“Stage IV” Gerard agreed. “They say that it’s _metastasized_ , spread throughout my entire body.”

“Well, I’m not normally a believer in karmic retribution but I might have to reconsider that,” Peter said dryly.

“That’s why you’re here now,” Laura seethed. “You want revenge before you die.”

“Revenge yes,” Gerard confirmed. “But I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

There was a pause before Peter spoke again.

“You want the bite,” Peter said in a voice Stiles had never heard before.

_That can’t be right. Gerard is a hunter, he hates werewolves more than anything. He’d never want to become one._

_But you can never tell what people would be willing to do to survive._

“But you hate werewolves,” Laura protested. “You’ve dedicated you’re life to killing us.”

“And just think how much more effective I’d be, with the bite. All the knowledge of a master hunter and all the speed and strength of a werewolf,” Gerard gloated.

“Never,” Peter stated.

“Never say never,” Gerard taunted. “Especially, not where the lives of your pack are concerned.”

“I’ll never give you the bite.” Peter stated again.

“You either give me the bite or I’ll kill your pack, one by one, right in front of you,” Gerard said and Stiles heard no lie in his voice.

“You’re going to kill us all either way,” Peter countered.

“Oh, you I’ll definitely kill,” Gerard admitted. “How else would I become an Alpha? But I might spare your niece and nephew. I could probably use some experienced Betas in my new pack.”

“They’d never be loyal to you and you would never trust them. You’d never let them live.”

“All true,” Gerard said, and Stiles could hear the smugness in his voice. “So, let me put it another way. Give me the bite and I’ll kill them quickly, refuse and they will suffer. Our methods have evolved a great deal over the generations. I could keep them alive and in constant agony for weeks, months even, before they finally die. Reduce them to nothing more than slobbering beasts. Do you really want to condemn your dear niece and nephew to that fate?”

Peter didn’t answer.

_He can’t seriously be thinking of giving him the bite! Just give me some kind of signal. Let me know what I should do!_

“Peter, don’t even think about it!” Laura begged. “You can’t give that monster the bite. You can’t.”

Derek roared and struggled against his ropes even harder. Stiles jumped to his feet but the sound was drowned out by the sound of one of the hunters bashing Derek on the head with his rifle.

“Sure, just lean your neck down for me and I’ll give you the bite,” Peter snarked.

“You’re not a vampire, Hale,” Gerard said sharply. “A bite on the arm will do just fine. Now change into your Beta form. I know full well that human teeth won’t work.”

“Let them go and I’ll give you the bite,” Peter said. “I’ll order them to leave; they won’t be able to resist my order.”

“I think you need some motivation,” Gerard icily. “Bring me the nephew.”

_Derek!_

Derek snarled and thrashed as a hunter dragged him over to Gerard. The hunter nearest Stiles shifted position until he was right at the foot of the stairs, rifle aimed across the room, presumably at Derek.

“You work with plants, so you should appreciate this Peter,” Gerard said, and again there was the tinkling sound of glass vials knocking against each other. “These days you hear so much about young kids growing marijuana, playing with the plant strains to make it even stronger. Well, a few of our number have been working on something similar with aconite. This strain is quite new. They nicknamed it ‘Hunter’s Delight.’ From what I’m told, it’s just a painful and deadly to you as regular aconite, only it takes five times as long to reach the heart.”

“You inject him with that and I’ll never give you the bite,” Peter yelled.

“Oh, but you will,” Gerard said confidently. “You’ll see. A few hours of watching him writhe in agony and you’ll be begging to give me the bite and put him out of his misery. Hold him still.”

Stiles’ entire world went red.

It took him a second to realize that the roaring in his ears was actually coming from him, but by that time he was already tackling the hunter at the foot of the stair. He didn’t even remember making the decision to jump down the stairs, before he was on top of the man. He couldn’t remember anything other than that Derek was in danger.

The hunter was down as soon as Stiles landed on him, rendered unconscious by the force of Stile body slamming him into the floor. Running on pure instinct, Stiles jumped up, turned, and launched himself directly at Gerard. Not even caring that Gerard and the other hunter had guns and could shoot him, Stiles leapt through the air; his focus was locked on Gerard. He would make this man pay for even thinking of hurting his pack, his Derek.

He’d never considered himself a violent person, even with his more animalistic werewolf traits on the full moon, but right now he wanted to kill. He wanted to eviscerate these hunters. He wanted to feel their hot blood coating his hands and hear their screams of pain and terror ringing in his ears. He wanted to cut them into ribbons to send a message to everyone and everything that this is what would happen if they dared to harm his pack.

Regrettably, that isn’t what happened.

One second he was flying through the air, claws out and ready to sink them into Gerard’s chest, and the next second he was on the ground writhing in agony. The pain was excruciating. It felt like every muscle in his body was locked up and set on fire. Above him, Gerard was looming, malevolence gleaming in his eyes. In his hand was an electric cattle prod, crackling with more electricity than it probably should. To his left he could hear Derek being repeatedly bashed over the head by the other hunter.

“Is Mason alive?”

“Just stunned,” Gerard announced. “I can see him breathing.”

Gerard then took the cattle prod and pressed it into Stiles’ side again. Again his muscles locked up and he felt like every muscle in his body was being ripped apart.

“Another Beta,” Gerard scoffed. “I should have guessed. Which one of your pack took a mate, your Alpha heir or your degenerate nephew?”

Even through the pain, Stiles couldn’t hold back a growl at that last part.

_Not only is he a specists murderer but he’s also a homophobe._

 “So it’s the nephew then,” Gerard smiled cruelly.

All at once the pain abruptly stopped. The shock of the sudden loss of searing pain made him gasp. He looked over at Derek only to meet his gaze. The raw desperations in Derek’s eyes cut right through him. Blood was flowing freely down the side of his face, from a gash just above his left eye, but he’d finally stopped struggling. Next to him, Laura looked like she was on the verge of tears but was stubbornly refused to let them fall.

“His room did reek of sex, when we were searching the house,” the hunter who had been hitting Derek said. “I just thought he was fucking his sister.”

“He’s not a member of our pack,” Peter said. Stiles knew he was lying, could tell from his heartbeat, but it still hurt to hear his Alpha say that. “He’s a stray Omega, just passing through.”

“So, he’s trying to buy his way into the pack by being your fuck toy?” the younger hunter taunted.

“I don’t think so,” Gerard cackled. “No stray Omega would react so passionately to the threat against another wolf’s life, unless it was a member of his own pack.”

“He wants to join our pack but I’ve been refusing,” Peter bluffed. “He’s young and stupid. Probably thought that we’d let him join our pack, if he saved us from you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Gerard argued. “But let’s put it to a test shall we. I’ll give you until the count of three and, when I get to three, you either agree to give me the bite or I blow this boys brains all over your living room floor.”

Gerard then took out a ridiculously large, silver handgun and leveled it directly at Stiles’ head. Stiles had been around guns all his life, from his dad’s 9mm Glock to his grandfather’s old deer hunting rifle, but this was the first time he’d ever had one pointed at him. It was a completely different feeling to be looking down this end of the barrel. Derek started struggling again but the other hunter had him pinned. Laura was trembling, her eyes locked on Peter, silently pleading. Peter’s face was a mask but his heart rate was sky-rocketing in his chest.

“One.”

Laura whined and Derek struggled even harder. A cold sweat broke out over Stiles’ skin.

“Two.”

Derek’s growls became even louder and the hunter holding him knocked him on the head with his gun again. Peter’s face was still a blank mask.

“Thr—”

A pounding at the front door made everyone’s head turn in that direction. No one moved or said anything. The pounding on the front door continued, followed by a familiar voice that made Stiles heart leap up into his throat.

“This is the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department,” his dad yelled. “Is there anyone in there?”

_Crap! Dad must have gotten suspicious when I never showed up to meet him._

Gerard turned his attention back to Stiles.

“Young maybe, but not so stupid after all,” Gerard sneered. “He managed to call the police before he undertook his own rescue attempt.”

“I didn’t,” Stiles denied, terrified that Gerard would shoot his father.

“Peter, Laura, or Derek Hale,” his dad hollered again. “I’m here on behalf of the Fish and Wildlife Department, regarding the Prescribed Burning. It’s urgent that I speak with you.”

“I don’t think he’s gonna leave on his own,” the younger hunter said.

“No, not when all their cars are parked out front,” Gerard agreed. “Untie the girl but keep your gun on her.”

The younger hunter pulled out a switchblade and sliced off her bonds in a few measured swipes. At the same time Gerard bend down, grabbed the front of Stiles’ shirt, and roughly hauled him to his feet. He held Stiles’ upper arm in a deceptively strong grip, pressed the cold metal of his gun’s muzzle to the side of Stiles’ head, and then turned to address Laura, as she got to her feet.

“You’re going to see what the officer wants,” Gerard ordered. “You’re going to convince him that everything is fine and get him to leave. If you don’t, I’ll shoot this boy’s head off and then Liam here will shoot you and the nice officer. Understood?”

“Yes,” Laura glared, rubbing her tender wrists. Then Liam jabbed her in the back with the end of his rifle to get her moving toward the front door.

Stiles watched helplessly, as Laura walked to the front door, Liam right on her heels. She carefully opened the door so that his dad couldn’t see into the living room. Liam had positioned himself right behind the door, his gun poised to shoot both Laura and his dad.

“Miss Hale, I presume. I’m Officer Clark,” his dad lied. “I’m here to inform you that you and your family need to temporarily relocate. We’ve gotten word from the Fish and Wildlife Department to evacuate all the homes in this area. There’s been some kind of shift in the weather patterns and pretty soon the smoke and other debris in the air will reach hazardous levels.”

“Is the fire going to spread all the way over here?” Laura asked? the concern in her voice wasn’t entirely faked.

“The fire is still contained, it’s just the wind that’s pushing the smoke in a direction they didn’t anticipate,” his dad replied and Stiles was never gladder that humans couldn’t hear lies the way that werewolves could. “We’ve set up a temporary shelter in the High School Gymnasium or you can see if any hotels have rooms available, but you have to check in at the Gymnasium first, so that we know everyone in the hazard zone has been accounted for.”

 _Damn, he’s good._ Stiles thought, impressed with his father’s ability to lie.

“Okay officer,” Laura replied. “We’ll just pack up a few things and head into town shortly. You can head on out. I’m sure there are other houses you have to alert.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Miss Hale,” his dad said. “I’m under orders to escort you and your family out of here as soon as possible. I can’t leave until you’re in your car and following me into town to ensure your safety.”

_This is not good. Dad has to know the hunters are here—why else would he used a fake name and act like he didn’t know Laura—but he doesn’t know that one of them has a gun on him right now. He’d wearing his Kevlar vest but I don’t think that will stop a sniper rifle bullet from this close. He has t—What the heck is that?_

Terrified as he was for the lives of his dad, his pack, and even himself, the wolf in him was alert to everything. Even the tiny creak of a particular floorboard in the hallway to his right. Focusing his hearing, he realized he’d been so distracted by his dad at the front door that he completely missed someone sneaking into the house from the back door. That same someone who was slowly creeping down the hallway from the back porch.

_Did dad call one of his deputies for backup? Or did one of the wannabe-hunters wake up. No, they were tied up._

Whoever it was, Stiles had never met them before and didn’t recognize their heartbeat. Glancing over, he noticed that Derek had stopped struggling with his ropes in an effort to better listen to what was happening. Peter still his features schooled into an emotionless expression but his eyes were glowing just the slightest bit. When Stiles locked gazes with him, he saw Peter flick his eyes to the hallway entrance and then back to him. Then Peter nodded ever so slightly.

Stiles understood. His dad was the distraction and the man making his way up the hall had to be Peter’s mysterious ally.

All at once it felt like time seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously. There was a sound of a gun going off, wood blasting apart, and a shriek of pain coming from the direction of the front door. Stiles didn’t even have time to worry that his dad might have been shot because at that moment, Peter’s mystery ally rounded the corner into the living room, gun pointed at Gerard. The mystery man looked a little familiar in an obscure way. Gerard must have recognized him though, because his grip on Stiles’ arm loosened just a fraction, in surprise. It was enough for Stiles to be able to break out of Gerard’s grasp just enough to avoid a bullet to the brain.

There was a loud blast right next to his ear and then a deafening ringing sound. Stiles vaguely heard muffled gunshots and Peter roaring as he rushed past him, tackling Gerard to the ground but it all sounded so far away. Suddenly, he was a lot lest steady on his feet. He fell to the ground but was able to crawl over to Derek. Ignoring the painful burning sensations, he clawed through the ropes keeping Derek immobile.

As soon as Derek was free he immediately enveloped Stiles in his arms and dragged him away from the commotion and behind the couch. He could see Derek’s mouth moving but noting he said was registering through the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

“iles”

“Stiles”

“STILES!”

“I’m okay!” he said, clutching his ear as noise started to flood his hearing. Like a bubble bursting his hearing was suddenly back to normal.

_Thank you werewolf healing._

“My dad!” Stiles yelled, trying to jump up and find him, only to be stopped by Derek’s arms wrapped tight around him.

“He’s fine,” Derek said, trying to hold Stiles still. “Stiles, he’s fine. Laura has him.”

“But the gunshots and—”

“Your dad was the one that fired,” Derek assured. “He fired through the front door. The bullet missed but it was enough of a distraction for Laura to knock the hunter out.”

“Gerard?”

“Peter has him,” Derek snarled.

Once he realized that everyone was okay, he calmed down enough so that Derek let them both get up.

Peter and his mystery ally were standing in the middle of the living room, guarding over an unconscious but still very _alive_ Gerard, having a murmured conversation. Stiles didn’t even bother trying to listen in because at that moment a very pissed off Laura entered the living room, followed by his dad carrying an unconscious Liam. His dad wasn’t even two steps into the living room before he was flinging his arms around him, squeezing him tight. Liam’s body dropped to the floor with a thud but no one cared.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again, kiddo,” his dad berated, returning Stiles embrace with equal enthusiasm. “Next time—and I hope there never is a next time—you call me and we go in together, you understand.”

“Loud and clear,” he agreed, nuzzling into his dad’s neck and breathing in the comforting scent.

“You were pretty awesome, coming up with that story about the winds shifting and the toxicity levels rising, right on the spot like that,”

“Where do you think you inherited your ability to lie?” his dad smirked. “Because, it certainly wasn’t from your mother’s side of the family.”

He would have been content to stay like that for hours but their perfect Hallmark moment was interrupted by two ferocious growls.

“What’s he doing here?” Laura growled. Stiles tore himself away from his dad to see Laura glaring at the man standing with Peter, her claws out and ready to attack. Derek too had his claws out and moved so that he was standing in front of Stiles.

“Saving your life,” Peter’s mystery ally said confidently.

“Who is he?” Stiles asked perplexed, pushing his way forward despite Derek’s growl of warning.

“Chris Argent,” Derek gritted out. “Brother of Kate Argent and son of Gerard Argent.”

Stiles immediately moved so that he was standing slightly in front of his dad, ready to defend him.

“And my contact among the hunters,” Peter added.

_What! Peter would never work with hunter. Especially not an Argent._

“You’ve been working with _him_ ,” Laura accused.

“I called in a favor,” Peter clarified. “Chris is one of the few hunters left that actually follow the code” Chris scowled at that but kept quiet “and he owes our family a debt for what happened with Kate. I’m simply collecting on that debt.”

Now that there wasn’t gunshots and carnage happening all around him, he was able to really get a good look at Chris Argent. He was around his dad’s age with close-cropped light brown hair peppered with grey. His eyes were hard grey and he had a face that looked like its default setting was disapproval. He was good looking in a DILF kind of way. He had muscles but they weren’t as pronounced as Derek’s. In a bizarre way, Chris reminded him of his dad. They both had that calm air of assurance and authority that only years of experience and responsibility could bring.

_This is what a hunter is supposed to look like._

“How do we know he wasn’t a part of this from the beginning,” Laura speculated. “It’s his father after all.”

“I didn’t even know it was my father until I came into the room,” Chris denied. “Nor would I have been, if I’d known. What my father was attempting to do here goes against everything that I stand for.”

“And if he had been, then he wouldn’t have helped me rescue you,” His dad spoke up. “He would have just shot me in the woods and walked right in.”

“You knew about him being here too,” Stiles accused, whipping around to face his dad.

“Peter told me that he was talking with him, when he first told me about the hunters being in town,” his dad admitted. “He said if anything happened I should call Chris. Then you never showed up, after you texted me, so I made a call.”

“I was already on my way because Peter hadn’t checked in either,” Chris added. “So we met up down the road from the house and came up with a way to get inside.”

“Why didn’t tell us?” Laura asked, a sense of betrayal shining in her eyes but at least she and Derek had put their claws away.

“Because I knew you would react this way,” Peter said. “I made a decision as Alpha, and it turned out to be the right one.”

The room was tense as Laura and Peter glared at each other. Finally, Laura looked away.

“So, the old guy is your dad but who are the other two?” Stiles asked as a way to dispel some of the awkwardness.

“That one is Mason Hall and the other is Liam Wright,” Chris observed as he pointed first to the hunter at the foot of the stairs and then to the one his dad had dropped by the door. “They were thrown out of our clan, when they started ignoring orders and bent the rules of the Code one time too many.”

“So, you’re saying that they were murdering innocent people, just because they were werewolves, and instead of turning them over to the police, you just sent them off on their own to wreak havoc,” Laura accused.

“We never had definitive proof and without the support of one of the main hunter families, they wouldn’t have been much of a threat,” Chris said defensively. “A lone hunter isn’t much of a match against a werewolf. That’s why we work in teams and network with each other.”

“Except, it seems they weren’t as cut off as you thought,” Peter pointed out.

“We’ve suspected that my father has been working on his own agenda ever since Kate,” Chris admitted. “This must have been what he was working toward. It certainly didn’t have Victoria’s approval.”

“Victoria?” his dad questioned.

“My wife,” Chris stated.

“Yes, you see, some hunter families have what you would consider a matriarchal oversight committee,” Peter explained. “While the men are generally the ones who go out and get their hands dirty, the women are, theoretically, the ones that have the final say on whether or not to kill their targets.”

“It’s helped my family keep their moral compass,” Chris agreed.

“Yes, because your family thinks it’s so enlightened,” Laura snorted. “Werewolves were putting their trust in female Alphas long before your family decided to become a matriarchy. And it’s not like the women of you family have such a sterling history of clear judgment and mercy.”

“Kate was never one of the decision makers of our family,” Chris argued. “Whatever you may think about us, we _did_ recognize that she wasn’t qualified to lead us.”

“That didn’t stop her from trying to burn down our home and killing our parents,” Derek growled.

“I can’t change the past,” Chris said stonily.

“What’s gonna happens now?” Stiles asked before another awkward silence could settle in.

“Now, I arrest these three for attempted murder,” his dad said matter-of-factly.

“I can’t let you do that,” Chris said, taking a step forward, putting himself between Peter and Gerard. “This is a hunter issue; we need to deal with it ourselves.”

“Figures,” Laura scoffed under her breath. “They try and kill us for now reason but because _we’re_ the monsters you want to let them off with a slap on the wrist.”

“Last time I checked, ‘hunters’ don’t have any legal jurisdiction in Beacon Hills,” his dad said in his Sheriff voice.

“Last time I checked, a Sheriff’s jurisdiction didn’t cover werewolves,” Chris countered.

“No but it covers homicide,” his dad said. “Human or werewolf, murder is murder.”

 “They will be punished for what they did,” Chris assured. “But I need to know how far my father’s influence has spread through our ranks and I need to question these two.”

“And Gerard?” Peter inquires pointedly.

“He’ll answer for his crimes,” Chris stated simply.

“But not nearly as much as he would if he were arrested,” Stiles put in. “What’re you gonna do, put him in a nursing home and take away his gun range privileges.”

“Not even that,” Derek said. “Since you and your family don’t even consider killing us to be a crime. The only thing he’ll really be in trouble for is wanting the bite.”

“That’s not true,” Chris denied. “We follow our code and hunt those who hunt us. The situation is just complicated. I can’t allow another member of my family to die by your family’s hands. It could start a war.”

“We didn’t kill Kate,” Laura said. “Even though we wanted to. Even though we had that right. Instead, we turned her over to human justice. It was a human jury that found her guilty and the human justice system that will execute her, when the time comes. We did what was right, but your kind will never see us as anything other than beasts.”

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Peter interrupted.

“Doesn’t matter!” Laura growled.

“His cancer is even further along that I thought it was,” Peter explained, sniffing the air. “I can smell the sickness in every cell of his body. Even with treatment, I’d be greatly surprised if he lives passed the next two weeks, let alone the next month.”

Now that Peter mentioned it, Gerard did smell disgusting. The scent of chemicals and sickness and a few other things that Stiles couldn’t even begin to describe had completely washed out whatever normal human scent Gerard might have once had.

“He’d never spend a day in jail,” his dad confirmed. “They’d have him out on bail and or claim that he wasn’t fit to stand trial.”

“So, after everything he’s done, he gets to die a free man and in the comfort of his own home,” Laura sneered.

“Not free, just not in an official prison. If it’s any consolation, it won’t feel like he won to him,” Chris said. “I know my father; he’ll spend his last days raging at his failed plans. Being back home will only enrage him more, because it means that he couldn’t die fighting.”

“It’s not,” Derek grunted, crossing his arms.

Stiles had to agree.

“I think you should take them and go,” Peter suggested. “The sooner they’re out of our home the better.”

“My truck is just down the road,” Chris said hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth between his father on the ground and the four angry werewolves in the room.

Peter just rolled his eyes.

“If we were going to kill him, do you really think we would have to wait for you to leave the room?” Peter asked sarcastically.

Chris wisely didn’t answer but he still didn’t move. At first, Stiles thought he was being ridiculous but then he realized, if the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t leave his dad alone with a group of hunters either.

“I’ll watch over him,” his dad volunteered. “I should start handcuffing them all as well.”

“Sheriff,” Chris nodded his head in agreement then headed towards the front door.

While he was gone, Derek and Laura gathered up the other two hunters and tossed them next to Gerard. Then they searched them for any hidden weapons or lock picks. They found ten knives and three smaller guns combined on the three hunters and left them all on the living room table. Peter discreetly pocketed the vials of altered wolfsbane for later study.

As they were working, Stiles tried to make a few jokes to lighten the mood but they all fell flat.

They wanted to tie the hunters up in case they came to but his dad only had one pair of and cuffs. Then Peter remembered that there were some zip ties in the kitchen. Chris returned just as they finished zip tying Gerard.

They loaded the hunters and all their weapons into the back of Chris’s truck in silence. Once that was done, Laura, Derek, and Stiles retreated to the house to get away from the smoke. Peter and his dad stayed to have a few words with Chris. Stiles could hear their conversation perfectly but it wasn’t that interesting, just Chris promising that the hunters would be punished and Peter and his dad not really believing it.

When Peter and his dad went back into the house, they all decided to clean up a little. Some of the damage was easily fixable, like sweeping up the remains of broken glass from a lamp that had been knocked over or swipe blood off the hardwood floor, but some things would need more work. They definitely needed a new front door and some plaster for the bullet holes in the walls but that would have to wait for tomorrow, when the hardware store opened.

His dad gratefully took Peter up on his offer to stay the night. None of them felt like being alone that night, so they grabbed a bunch of pillows, blankets, and even Laura’s mattress and moved it into Peter’s room. Normally they would have all slept in the living room but, after what happened in there tonight, it would be a while before they would feel totally at ease in that room.

Stiles just wanted to curl up in a big puppy pile with his pack, preferably next to Derek, but something nagged at the back of his mind. He’d just found a comfy spot, when he realized what they’d forgotten.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Are those three idiots still tied up in the back yard?”

 

The three idiots were still tied up in the back yard and they were still knocked out. His dad called in an ambulance for them, so they could be treated for aconite poisoning and slight smoke inhalation. The hospital assured them that they would be fine. They might wish otherwise, when they wake up in the morning, to find that their parents had been called and all three of them were being charged with trespassing, harassment, and—in Shane’s case—assault.

His dad had already taken a statement from Peter stating that the three of them had been following them and had tried to break into their house. That explained away the damage to the front door. Peter had gone on to say how Dave and Chad had wanted to leave but Shane had attacked him but he and Derek managed to subdue them. His dad also got the ball rolling on the paper work for a restraining order against Shane and Peter planed on sending word to other packs warning them about him, as well as telling them about the new strains of wolfsbane the hunters were developing.

The sun was rising by the time they finally got to sleep.

They slept well into the afternoon, getting up only when the growling of their stomachs became too loud to ignore. Once again, he woke up tangled in Derek’s arms. Only this time, it wasn’t as awkward because they also tangled up with Laura, Peter, and his dad. Stiles had seriously never imagined a situation where waking up in with his dad, someone he thought of as a sister, and someone he thought of as an uncle would make waking up with the guy he was in love with _less awkward_ but that was being a werewolf for you.

They went downstairs to make some breakfast, avoiding the living room as much as they could. As they settled in to eat, the shock and jumpiness from last night seemed to ease. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief. They were all safe and together and content. Stiles was so wrapped up in his feelings of contentment and peace that his dad’s next words threw him for a loop.

“So kiddo, when do you have to leave?” his dad asked.

“What?” he asked bewildered.

_Why would I ever leave?_

“Well, you said you have class tomorrow,” his dad offered by way of explanation. “You’ll have to hit the road pretty soon, if you want to make it back to Berkeley as a decent hour.”

He felt his entire body slump in disappointment. He’d completely forgotten that he was just home for the weekend. It had only been four days but it felt like a lifetime ago.

“I could always stay for a more few days, to make sure that everything is safe,” Stiles offered. “I’ve got A’s in all my classes and perfect attendance, so a few missed classes won’t kill me. If you guys needed me here.”

“We’ll always need you here, Stiles,” Peter said. Stiles felt his heart swell at that. “But you shouldn’t neglect your school work. We’ll be fine, now that the hunters are gone.”

Stiles looked around the table, hoping that someone would speak up with a reason for him to stay. No one did.

“Yeah, I guess I should get my clothes from home and head out soon then,” Stiles said.

“Brought all you laundry home, like a good college stereotype,” Laura teased and Stiles had to crack a smile.

Of course, then his dad had to embarrass him by telling them about his clothes scenting idea. He thought that Laura would tease him for it but instead she just looked thoughtful.

“It must be really hard being so far away from the pack,” she said softly.

“I should have considered something like that before you left,” Peter admonished himself.

After that, they finished eating quickly. His dad left right after eating because he needed to be at the station for a night shift. Stiles would have hitched a ride with him to pick up his jeep but Peter asked him to stay. He disappeared upstairs and came back with a couple of pillow cases and a sheet. They were the ones that they had all slept on last night and were saturated with the scent of pack. Stiles already wanted to roll around in them and he hadn’t even left yet.

Laura had the smart idea of sealing them up in a plastic bag so that the smoke outside didn’t cover up their scent. Then walked him outside, where she gave him a bone crushing hug and ruffled his hair. The wind must have shifted because the smoke wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been last night.

“Stay safe,” she ordered. “And we’re upping the weekly calls home to biweekly calls home, got it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock saluted.

“I’ll walk with you to your jeep,” Derek offered, as he grabbed the bag with the pillow cases and sheet.

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles agreed.

“Stiles, could I have a word before you leave,” Peter requested from his spot on the porch.

“Sure,” Stiles agreed.

He jogged back up to where Peter was standing. Peter gave Derek and Laura a look and they politely turned their attention to something else.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked a little apprehensively.

“There’s just something I wanted to discuss with you that I haven’t had the chance to,” Peter said. “About last night, when Gerard was threatening to shoot you…”

“Peter, I know you would have never let him kill me,” Stiles said instantly. “You were just stalling for as much time as possible.”

Peter looked at once relieved and surprised.

“I knew that Chris at least was on the way and even seconds could have made a difference.”

“I get that,” Stiles told him.

“But I would never let anything happen to you, Stiles,” Peter said earnestly. “You’re pack. You’re family.”

“I know,” Stiles said happily and Peter pulled him into a hug.

“And don’t keep things so bottled up,” Peter whispered into his hair. “If you’re having any kind of trouble, call us. That’s what pack is for.”

“I will,” Stiles promised and stepped back.

“We’ll see you again real soon,” Laura said, as she came up behind him and gave him another quick hug.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Stiles replied.

Derek was waiting for him by the tree line. They fell into a companionable silence as they made their way to the Preserve’s parking lot. Stiles was intentionally walking slower than he normally would, in an effort to prolong his time with Derek. He really wanted to talk about what happened between them during Derek’s heat but he didn’t know how to bring it up.

 _Ha! Actually, I do know how to bring it up!_ He thought smuggly.

“We should visit you,” Derek’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What?”

“Laura and I. Maybe we can come up and visit you at Berkeley next month,” Derek offered. “We could bring up some more sheets and stuff.”

“Sounds great,” Stiles agreed energetically.

They stopped right next to Stiles’ jeep and just kind of stared at each other for a minute. He really needed to say something, and he got the feeling that Derek did too, but he just did know how.

“Derek—”

“Stiles—”

He laughed nervously and bit his lip.

“You go first,” Derek said.

“No, it’s nothing,” Stiles said. “It’s just…We’re okay, right? I mean you and me; we’re good and everything, right?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Derek agreed after a minute.

“Okay,” Stiles sighed. “What were you gonna say?”

“The same thing you did,” Derek admitted.

“Oh, well good. We’re on the same page.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They were staring at each other again but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I should probably…” he gestured vaguely to the Jeep behind him.

“Right,” Derek agreed.

“So, I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Derek agreed

Then Stiles climbed up into his Jeep and made his way to his dad’s house. Once he was there, he threw his stuff into his bag and made himself some sandwiches for the road. He’d probably still stop and get something from a drive-thru but he saved a little money this way.

He debated about lingering for a little while longer but it was a long drive back to Berkeley. That didn’t stop him from driving five miles under the speed limit out of town just so he could soak in the sights of home a little more. He was almost out of town, when something caught his eye. For a moment, Stiles though he saw a very familiar shape among the trees, as he drove past the ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he could swear that Derek had followed him all the way to the town limits.

_Probably just wishful thinking._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me this long. I hope it was worth it. I'm going to take a break from writing on this for about a week or so just to recharge my batteries and then I'll be back. I already have quite a few scenes written for the next part of the serie, which I think will be titled "Warm and Fuzzy Inside" so be on the lookout for it. I also have to go computer shopping since my motherboard crashed. The last two chapers of this story were written during library hours on my days off and on my computer at work during down time, which is why they took so long.
> 
> Again thanks to everyone who read and commented. You guys are the greatest!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took this long to put of the next part. I'm writing as fast as I can during what ever time I can get to myself. This first chapter is shorter than in my other stories but there will be a lot more chapters to this story.
> 
> Also this story will go back and forth between Derek and Stiles' point of view and I will be adding more tags as I write.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will be Stiles' POV and I'm already halfway done, so it should be up soon.
> 
> Once again comments and critiques are always welcome!


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